Sleeping with Ghosts
by Bluehaven4220
Summary: MIRACLE Push has finally come to shove
1. The River Driver

**Title: Sleeping with Ghosts**

**Author: Bluehaven4220**

**Summary: (MIRACLE) Push has finally come to shove**

**ooOoo**

_I'll eat when I am hungry, and I'll drink when I am dry. Get drunk whenever I'm ready, get sober by and by. And if this river don't drown me, it's down I'll need to roam, for I'm a river driver and I'm far away from home._

_The River Driver- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I could feel the sweat pouring down my face and the fierce burn of the sun on my back. I know that I may seem an anomaly. Not many women choose to go into the family business and work on a fish and tackle boat. I didn't actually _choose_ to do this, it was a necessity. How was I supposed to support myself when I didn't have anything more than a high school diploma?

I wasn't cut out for police work, and the days of slinging booze and food in dingy bars and restaurants left me with barely enough money to pay my rent, let alone eat. There's not much money in fish and tackle, I know that, but it's better than waitressing. I had never been so bored in my entire life when I was on my feet all day in those restaurants. At least out on the water I was free, I was able to do something that made me feel as though I were making a difference.

"Oi!" I heard him yell at me. "Princess, you mind givin' me a hand?"

"I ain't no princess there, Bane!" I shouted as I made my way down the boat to where Bane was struggling to hold on to a trawling net. I reached over the side and grabbed hold of the other side and pulled it up myself.

Opening the net, I rapidly pushed things out of the way, and what did I see?

Nothing.

Sighing in defeat, I shook my head.

"Come on, let's wrap it up for today," Bane clapped me on the shoulder and set to wrapping up the nets and guiding the boat back into the harbour. It was another day with barely anything to show for it. Ever since the fisheries had collapsed, what were we supposed to do? People didn't eat as much fish as they had before, but there was still use in trying to bring what we could.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough.

I lived paycheck by paycheck, and tried the best I could to support myself and bring the money into the house. Just for us to live my mother, brother, and I all worked, and we still barely made enough to make ends meet.

My father had fallen off an ice flow during the seal hunt when I was about five. They brought the box that he kept his belongings in home to my mother when they docked once again. Seeing them remove their caps and hang their heads, I knew. I knew my daddy was never coming home again.

My mother cried for weeks on end after it happened. She had asked them what had happened and where they had buried his body, but very rarely did they bury a body during the hunt. They had wrapped him in the flag and given him a ceremony, reciting the Lord's Prayer and promising to wait for him till the day that the sea would give up her dead.

We did not know when that would be, but certainly not in our lifetime.

To help my mother when my father's measly pension ran out, I got a job in the fisheries when I was eight. I cut and sold cod tongues for a local fisherman, Francis MacDonald. He was hardened old bugger if there ever was one, but he took pity on me and my brother, because he knew my mother and knew how much she suffered. When we told him we wanted to help he smiled an almost toothless grin and immediately set me to the cod tongues and my brother to the oysters.

Oh the smell! So disgusting! But eventually we learned to deal with it. A couple of times I stuffed rags up my nose so I wouldn't have to smell anything. Fish, if it's fresh, shouldn't smell 'fishy', it should smell like salt water. Sometimes it was too much even for me.

When I stopped working for Francis, I found work in a restaurant, but it was not a pleasant experience. Sticking my hands into greasy water laced with cheap detergent soap and Javex. Eck, javex! The stuff stained my black pants orange and burned my skin. I wanted to quit, you have no idea how much I wanted to quit, but I couldn't... I needed the money.

By the time I quit I had had enough of drunken patrons making passes at me and asking if they could take me home. In a small town, you know everyone and his uncle, and most of them were married. If I hadn't been working, believe you me, I would've cracked my knuckles across their mouths and knocked out their remaining teeth.

I realized very quickly that the restaurants was no life for me. I longed for the water, to throw a net over the side and pull the catch up. But it was about the time that the government closed the fisheries, and forced us out of our home. Now my mother, brother, and I lived in a cramped, two bedroom basement apartment. My brother slept on the fold-out couch while my mother and I took the two bedrooms. Chivalrous as always, he insisted the the couch was plenty comfortable enough, he would be fine. By the end of the day we were all so exhausted it was all we could do to eat supper and then shower and go to bed.

I should not be living this way. I am 24 years old and still need to live with my mother in order to avoid starvation. It is a sad life, one that I am not proud of, but one that I must accept. Many people have left to pursue other prospects; they believe that if they leave they have the opportunity to send their children to school, that they can live without having to worry about money or food or shelter, but the sad reality is that many of us do not have the resources to start over. Instead we make the best of what we have.

The next morning my brother and I set off to work, no doubt to be a day filled with nothing other than empty nets and the smell of the salt. Bane met us there at the same time every morning, with his canister of steaming hot coffee and his steel-toe boots already tied.

"Alright, so, Francis MacDonald wants a crate of oysters and a barrel of fish by 4pm today."

"The old coot is still around?" My brother looked over his shoulder, as though saying such a thing would result in his receiving a beating from Old Francis himself. "Thought he died off long ago."

"Be nice, Gary," I muttered under my breath. "The guy gave you yer first job. Be damn grateful you're still workin', and even more that he only wants a crate and a barrel."

"Fuck off, Viv," he muttered.

"Fuck you too," I slugged him in the arm and jumped over the side of the dock and up onto the deck. I immediately checked the net for any tears and set the crates and barrels before starting the motor. Bane and Gary soon followed, and off we went for another day of disappointment.

**ooOoo**

Indeed it was disappointing. By 4pm we had barely filled the crate of oysters, never mind the barrel of fish. We would have to bring what we had to Francis, and with this kind of cartage we were always prepared for the worst. Would he suddenly turn his back on us and say he no longer needed us; that he would find his fish elsewhere from other suppliers?

We brought it to him, and waited for his reaction. I could barely bring myself to look him in the eye. Technically, when the fisheries closed we were no longer allowed to fish, so I guess you could say we were dealt with off the books, there was no record of us ever bringing supply to Francis MacDonald, and the money he paid us with went into his 'business'.

He gave us a sad smile and accepted what we could give him, which really was not much. With a 'ye did the best ye could," and money exchanging hands, Bane, Gary, and I went home with our heads hung in shame.

What else could we do?

Make the best of what you've got, it's all you can do.

As you can see, I'm not trying to tell you how lovely living where I do is, it is hard, and it takes all I've got not to throw up my hands and say that I give up. I don't have a choice; this is how life is, and I've got to make the best of it.

My name is Vivianne Hallet, and this is my story.


	2. Seagulls

**rejazzz: I know, I know. Here is more for you. Thanks for the review**

**katydid13: Thank you**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: Here is more, like I promised. Thanks for the review**

**ooOoo**

_You know that she wants to try, never lets you see her cry. You know that she wants to try, she's got seagulls in her eyes_

_Seagulls- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I sat down with my mother, Kate, that night for dinner. Gary had decided he was going out to the bar with Bane that night, and Bane offered to buy him dinner, and Gary had promised he'd bring leftovers home for the next day. Is this what it had come to? Things were never going to get any better for us if we continued living the way we were, Gary and I would never be able to live our own lives. My mother had never wished for us to need to support her this way, but what else could we do? When our father had died she'd done all she could to make sure we were taken care of, and my mother... truth be told she didn't have anyone.

"Mum," she poked her fork at her scrambled eggs and toast as I attempted to talk to her. "Mum, what would you say if I told you I wanted a ticket to Boston?"

"I'd tell you to stop thinking so foolishly. There's no way we could afford a plane ticket to Boston, besides, what's in Boston that's in your head all of a sudden?"

"A job," I answered.

"Job? What kind of job?"

"Driving the zamboni at a university hockey rink," I took a bite of my piece of toast and picked my plate up, carrying it to the sink.

"Driving a zamboni? How is that any better than what you're doing now?"

"You know what?" I turned around to face her and slapped my hand on the counter. "What am I doing now? Gary and me are hauling nets for non-existant catches, which is putting Francis out of business! I don't want to be responsible for that! I want to live my own life!"

"Don't you dare shout at me!" She rose from her chair and came dangerously close to me. "I've done all I can to support you two since your daddy dropped off that ice-flow, don't you _dare_ tell me you need to live your own life! I know that!"

"So why won't you let me?"

"We can't afford it!" she was screaming now, tears forming in her eyes. "You think I _want_ you two here? You should have your own families, you should be off on your own by now. We shouldn't have to live off fucking instant mashed potatoes and the occasional egg when we can scrape enough money!"

"And yet we are!" I couldn't contain myself any longer. "Why is that, hmmm?" I could feel the rage I'd held back for so many years coming to the surface. "When Dad died you could've done so much more! Why the hell didn't you remarry and get us out of here?"

"Who would want a widow with two kids under the age of 10?" she shouted at me. "You two were so grief-stricken you would've hated the guy, no matter who it was!"

"It wasn't enough! Why should we have had to take jobs at the age of eight to support the family?"

"That's the way it was done! If you were going to work in the fisheries might as well start young. Come on Vivianne, you know all this already! I can't change what happened."

"But you can change what's happening _now!_" I felt my voice lower and I reached forward to grip her by the forearms. "If I go there's one less person for you to support, and you and Gary can pull enough in for the two of you."

She shook her head and turned her head away from me. "Get out, Vivianne, I need to be alone."

With the feeling of defeat weighing heavy in my stomach, I let go of her and went out the door, slamming it closed behind me.

I spent the next half hour walking around town, almost dazed. She was right, there was no way I was going to get out of here, we were simply too poor, and I had to accept it.

When I stopped and looked up, I realized that I had ended up sitting at the end of the harbour, my feet dangling over the edge. Ships docked and left port from here all the time, but I didn't seem to notice them today.

I didn't notice anything until the sound of heavy boots came near and Gary stood beside me.

"Hey..." he greeted.

"Hey," I answered, swinging my legs back and forth.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Can if you want, it's a free country."

"See, I'm not so sure about that, there was this one decree..."

"Yeah yeah, sit down," I shook my head. Gary could be the most stupid guy in the world, and yet he was the closest thing I had to a friend. People didn't want to talk to me because my daddy was dead and I never had time to play, even when I was little. When the other girls were sitting down in their kitchen with their mothers, I was down at the dock cutting the heads off fish and pulling out their tongues.

"When I got home Mum said you'd gone out."

"Asked me to leave was more like it," I retorted.

"Ah," Gary nodded.

"Yeah, we had a pretty big row."

"What about?"

"I told her I wanted to go to Boston."

"What's in Boston?"

"A job," I told him. "It's got nothing to do with the fisheries, and if I go that's less burden for her, and..."

"Hold on!" he held up a hand and pulled her up to stand in front of him. "Why did you two have a row, again?"

"Because I want out of here!" she shouted, almost unable to control herself. "I can't assign myself to a life of disappointment. I'm strong, I'm educated, and I still don't understand why she doesn't want us to leave."

"What?"

"What baffles me more is that she didn't remarry and give us a better life."

"Who wants a widow with two kids under the age of 10?" Gary stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's what _she _said!" I shouted at him, feeling my face flush. "Don't tell me you agree with her!"

"No!" Gary took a step back from me. "No, Viv, that's not what I'm saying at all," he stepped forward once again and held her by the forearms. "Look, I know you're frustrated, I'm frustrated too! I'm sure none of us would've thought that we'd still be living at home at our age."

"And that's why I want to change it, Gary!" I could feel my eyes watering. "We need to be independent..."

"No... _you_ need to be independent, I'll get there eventually," he answered me, and I could feel myself beginning to relax.

A single tear slipped down my cheek.

"I think you can do it, Viv," Gary nodded at me. "Look, you should go. I'll stay here and take care of Mom."

"Gary, I can't ask you to do that..."

"You're not asking, sis, I'm telling you I'll do it," he pulled me close and hugged me tightly. "Besides, when you leave I'll get your room."

I reached underneath him and punched him in the shoulder blade. "Wanker."

We both laughed as the wind roared behind us.


	3. Helmethead

**Brown eyed Girl 75: Isn't it funny how brothers can finally string together encouragement and actually SOUND like they mean it? Thanks for the review**

**katydid13: Thank you, here is more**

**ooOoo**

_So goodbye (fare thee well), there's no time for delay, you'll see me at the face-off or catch the play-by-play. So goodbye (fare thee well), I'm glad you shared my bed, but never trust a fella with a helmet on his head_

_Helmethead- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I jumped over the boards and slid over the end of the ice. Jesus Christ, what did these guys _do_ while they're out here? There are cracks and holes everywhere, and of course, it's _my _job to fill in these things. That and running the snack bar and mopping the floor, and cleaning the bathroom. Why does it always seem to be that _I'm _the only one at the arena and I get stuck with all these stupid jobs?

Just as I packed fresh ice into the seventeenth hole left in the ice surface, one such offender, dressed in a yellow Terriers practice jersey and hockey skates stepped foot on the surface that I still had to finish repairing. Sighing and throwing a chunk of ice clear across to the other side, I waited until he skated around the ice once and then left.

"Good God," I muttered to myself. "He should know better than that, it'll ruin the blades on his skates."

He waited until I banged the last of the fresh ice into the surface and then decided he was going to step on the ice and try skating around again, no doubt liable to wear holes in the fresh ice. I hadn't even zambonied the ice yet, what the hell was he doing?

"Oi!" I shouted, still on my knees. "Stupid kid, get the hell off the ice!"

"Calm down..." he told me.

"Don't you fucking tell me to calm down!" I shouted at him. "I am running on an hour of sleep and four cups of coffee, so don't you tell me to calm down!"

"What's your problem?"

"You're my fucking problem! Skating on the ice when I haven't even finished with it!"

"Alright, alright, I'll leave!"

I shook my head, but when he didn't skate away from me I couldn't help but feel rage at the fact that he was still standing there.

"Move!" I shouted at him. "Now! Before I come over there and rip your nuts off with the chisel!"

The look in my eyes must've told him to back away from me, considering how tired I was and how fierce I knew my words were. I was not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially since I had just moved into a new apartment and right now could only afford to pay my rent. I ate from the snack bar, usually a small thing of popcorn, and that would be my dinner. Unfortunately it was all I could afford, sad as it is.

Oh well, eventually things would pick up.

I hoped.

Once he had left me alone, I made my way toward the Zamboni and climbed up the side. Starting the engine, I drove the machine onto the surface and set to work. I guess you could say that going around in circles gave me some time to think. It didn't take very long to clear the ice, but it was enough for me to decide that, even though the job wasn't what I thought it would be when I moved here, the money was certainly more in a week what I would've made in two months on the fishing boats. I could stick it out, since it was probably the only way I was going to survive.

Once I'd cleared the ice and done the washrooms, I made my way back to the snack bar, and turned the popcorn machine on. It's beyond me why anyone would want to eat popcorn so early in the morning, but the manager had told me to turn the machine on in time for the first shifts. Especially in the summer, when the younger kids would be coming in for summer camps. In Newfoundland we didn't really have popcorn in the arenas, but then again, how would I know? I don't even remember seeing one, Gary and I normally ran around outside, and sometimes down to the harbour, where we'd throw rocks into the water. It wouldn't be out of place to say that that was our favourite pastime.

I stood at the bar waiting for people to come and ask for something, at least. Most people asked for popcorn, sometimes a soda, maybe even coffee. Even _I _wasn't that stupid, I knew how to make coffee, though my mother was a stickler for tea. Tea leaves weren't that expensive, maybe thirty cents for a pound, and I could boil water, that's what pots of water warmed on the stove were for.

And of course, who should approach the bar but one of the hockey players who'd just finished. But it wasn't the same guy who'd had the nerve to skate on the ice before I'd had done with it. This young guy had darker hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was a little shorter than the other guy, and he carried more equipment. I'm guessing he was a goalie, and he looked tired. It wasn't just the kind of tired you'd expect after a long practice in heavy equipment, but another kind of tired. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

He smiled at me and slipped me a five dollar bill. He asked me for a bottle of water and a small bag of popcorn. When I put the articles out on the counter, he smiled at me again and told me I looked new, since he'd never seen me before.

"Yeah, I just started here last week," I answered. "I'm Viv," I told him, holding out my hand.

"I'm Jim," he answered.

"Do you have a last name, Jim?" I asked him, giving him a sly smile of my own.

"Craig," he nodded.

"Hallet," I answered him.

"So, Vivianne Hallet," there was a big smile on his face. "It _is_ Vivianne, isn't it?"

"What else would it be?"

"Yeah, very true," he laughed. "What brings you to Boston University?"

"Oh, I... I'm not a student," I told him. "No one else would be able to work 10 hours a day, 6 days a week, so when I applied for the job they took me on for the fact that I wouldn't be interrupted by studying."

He nodded, almost knowingly.

"How much are you getting paid, if you don't mind me asking."

"Enough to pay my rent," I answered. "It's enough for my rent, it'll get up to enough for food, eventually."

His brow furrowed, but before he could say anything else, there was a voice from behind him calling his name.

"Hey Jack," he turned around and greeted his teammate.

I locked eyes with this Jack character and immediately recognized him as the kid who'd been on the ice with me. Good Lord, I hoped I was androgynous enough for him to forget my face. I had been halfway down the ice, and with the helmet on I would think his vision would be a little distorted in regards to remembering faces.

"Who's your friend?" he asked.

"Jack, this is..."

"Vivianne," I answered him, turning around and going back to my work. "Nice to meet you by the way, Jim."

"Yeah..." his voice sounded as though he were nodding as he spoke.

I heard the two of them walk away and swore never to think of either of them again.

Little did I know what fate had in store for me.


	4. Concerning Charlie Horse

**katydid13: Thank you**

**rejazzz: Just you wait and see.**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: So glad to heat that! Viv getting all nasty just came to me, she's so fiery, and did I tell you I thought of making Jimmy the one she fought with? **

**ooOoo**

_Come all ye friends I'll sit you down and sing a doleful ditty. Twas on a day in April month we started from the city. We planned a day or two at Mars we stall ward men were chosen, to remove old Charlie from Angle Pond... who fell in when the pond was frozen_

_Concerning Charlie Horse- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

The two of them returned to the dorms, Jim had told me, but not for long. God, that sounded a bit like Sweeney Todd the musical, didn't it? They'd gone out for drinks, and gotten sloshed. Apparently, Jim told me, Jack wanted my phone number and wanted to ask me out for drinks. I told him good luck, my phone isn't connected.

Jim and I had become fast friends... I guess you could say he was the only friend I'd ever really had. It was only a week or two before he brought me home to his place to meet his dad, Donald, and his two younger brothers. I'll tell you right now, Donald looked like he'd been through the ringer. I didn't ask Jim why his father looked so down, since it wasn't my place to ask. I figured he'd tell me in his own time.

I've still not told him about my family, in fact he doesn't really need to know quite yet. I mean, of course, Jim knows I'm from Newfoundland, I'm not _that_ cryptic! And he knows I have an older brother, but other than that I haven't said anything.

Working at the arena isn't bad. I mean, sure, ten hours sucks the life right out of you but slowly you gain it back. The pay isn't bad, it's getting so that I can afford some basic food, like pasta or some soup, but I'm still struggling to come up with quarters for the laundry machines. Oh well, turn socks inside out and you can wear them for another day. If push came to shove I could wash my clothes in the kitchen sink. My mom used to do that, and then when it was really cold she would warm our underwears in the oven. A lot of people in our neighbourhood would do that; I remember one time little John Warner came to school walking kinda funny. Turns out his dad had burned his underwear from turning the oven on too high, so he had to go to school without any clean underwears. And other kids said he was walking that way because doing up the zipper on his pants he got... well, you figure it out.

I smile when I think about that because for once, the attention wasn't on me. Who wants to be known for the fact that their daddy dropped off an ice flow when they were five years old? Sometimes I used to ask why my daddy couldn't have died doing something heroic, like fighting in the war. Mom said it was because my daddy wasn't made for war, he was made for sealing and fishing, and it was a big risk whenever he went out on the ice. Sometimes you're lucky, and sometimes you're not. We just happened upon a string of bad luck.

Is that what I'm supposed to tell people? My dad died thanks to a stroke of bad luck? Yeah, real ingenious, that is. I would be sent to the Principal's office at least four times a week for pushing other kids in the dirt for saying that my dad died so he wouldn't have to be around my mom anymore. They had started saying that my mother was a good-for-nothing floozy and that he was happy to go.

That was a lie, and everyone knew it. I would stay in the office for the remainder of the day and then Gary would come and pick me up and walk home with me. I would tell him the whole story, and sometimes I'd cry, but he'd just put his arm around me and listen to me. He was good that way, I didn't know very many people who would do that. Most of them would laugh and run ahead, but not my brother.

I kept everything Gary sent me. I'd take his letters to work with me and read them in my spare time, if there really was any. It was a slow day at the snack bar and nearly my time to go home when I pulled the letter out of my pocket and started reading.

_Viv,_

_Believe me, you're not missing much here. Mom is still fucking pissed at you for leaving, and I don't think she'll ever really understand why you've gone, so I wouldn't bother coming back for a while. She's shut herself up in her room with her work whenever I've come home (she seems to think I had something to do with it, she's right, but she doesn't need to know that). _

_Work is still some shit, different day. Bane and I managed to catch about a crate of oysters the other day. Seems the oysters have suddenly appeared now that you've moved. Not to say you're a Jonah, cause if that were true, you'd need to be dead in order for 'the curse' to be broken. Maybe they sensed your resentment and need to leave and steered clear._

_Right, sure, and cod have learned to fly. Did I tell you that Bane's wife is pregnant again? Five girls already... he's pretty sure this one's a boy. He said that about Abigail, Michelle, Linda, and Debbie, and Kim he thought would be a hermaphrodite. Nope, he ended up with another girl, and he wants a boy so bad. Says he'll name the kid Junior if it's a boy, Marcie says she'll kill him if he does._

_I've moved into your old room, and it's not that bad. Never realized you kept all your old pictures of Mom and Dad in there, and that record collection of yours? Where the hell did that come from? I thought Mom cashed in all our records to support us. Did you sneak a few or did she cash in something else? I found this picture of you and me somewheres in the house, thought you might want it._

_Oh, and don't worry, I haven't..._

"What'cha got your nose buried in?" a voice interrupted her reading.

"Letter," she looked up and saw none other than that brat of a hockey player staring at her. Jack was his name, wasn't it? "Not that you would care."

"Who's it from?"

"My brother," she folded the letter again and stuck it in her back pocket. "Again, I don't see why you would care so much."

"You just looked kinda down..."

"Oh yeah, and since you care so much it's a great opening line, isn't it?" I shook my head.

"Not at all," he answered me.

"Sure it's not. Did you want something or can I get back to what I was doing?"

"Nope, I'm good."

"That's nice," I glanced back to my letter and waited till he left me alone.

_Oh, and don't worry, I haven't told Mom whatt else you had planned, and those packages I send you? Sorry if it's not much but it's all I can really afford, _the letter read. _At least instant mashed potatoes and instant soup is cheap. Buy it in bulk and you're set for at least a month, did you know that? Miss you like crazy, sis. Hope you're well._

_Gary._

"Miss you too, bro," I whispered to myself as I clocked out and and grabbed my backpack. I went out the front of the arena and started the 2 mile walk home. I've walked farther than two miles home before, so don't think I can't handle it. It's not that bad. Sure it sucks when there's rain, but there's always rain, what can you do? Yell at the sky?

I was nearly home when, lo and behold, it started raining. Lucky for me I usually keep a couple of garbage bags in my backpack just in case. Come in useful when you don't have money for a rain jacket. I quickly pulled one out and draped it over meself before starting on walking again.

A few minutes after I started walking again a small station wagon pulled up and the window rolled down.

"You want a ride?"

Same guy... Jack I think his name was.

"No thanks, I'm almost home."

"Come on, it's pissing rain."

"Hadn't noticed that Sherlock!" I shouted over the rain.

"Where's your jacket?"

"You're looking at it!"

"A garbage bag? Get in here, you'll catch your death of cold if you're out there much longer!"

Shrugging, I stripped my backpack off and got into the car. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I did. At least it was warm, and it was dry.

"Where do you live?" he asked me.

"Just up the street here," I pointed to the apartment building just up ahead. It was a nice building, and I was able to haggle the rent down to a reasonable amount until I could really stand on my own two feet.

"Really? I'm in the same building," he remarked as I watched his hands run over the steering wheel. He handled the car smoothly, I noticed. He wasn't jerking the steering or stepping on the brakes every two seconds. I think that was put of the reason Gary gave up trying to teach Mom to drive, and really, who needs a car when everything you really need is less than a mile away by foot or biking?

"Ain't that something?" I whispered, almost shocked.

"Sure is," he smiled as he turned the corner into the communal parking lot. Once he's parked and gotten out of the car, he reached over the hood and held out his hand.

"Start over?" he asked.

I smiled at him and accepted the friendly gesture.

"I'm Jack O'Callahan," he told me.

"Vivianne Hallet," I smiled back at him, and walked with him into the building before the rain soaked through me anymore than it already had.

_Hey Gary, remember that jag-off I wrote to you about earlier?_ I penned to my brother later that night. _Maybe he's not as bad as I thought..._


	5. The Chemical Worker's Song

**katydid13: Really? Thank you so much**

**rejazzz: Fast friends indeed! I promise you will laugh here.**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: Sure it's never happened to him (rolls eyes). You will be laughing a hell of a lot more here. Gary's letters are not so heartwarming here, it shows more of his personality here.**

**A/N: This chapter contains a series of letter between Vivianne and her brother, Gary, and a surprise letter at the end. Gary's grammar is not perfect, just so you know, it's meant to be that way. I hope you enjoy**

**ooOoo**

_There's overtime and bonus opportunities galore. The young men like their money and they all come back for more. But soon you're knocking on, and you look older than you should. For every bob made on the job, you pay with flesh and blood_

_The Chemical Worker's Song- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

_Viv,_

_Are you fucking nuts? Just last week you were practically fuming with insults for this guy! I don't get it, last week you wanted to kill him and now it's like you need a drool bib! What the hell? You told me he was an arrogant jackass, and now you think he's different? What about that other guy you was telling me about? Jim something or other, wasn't it? You like him enough, don't you? Why don't you go after him instead? This Jack guy ain't gonna do nothin' to ya but break you's heart._

_Marcie's doing okay... she can't wait for this last baby to be born, she says she's tired of looking like she's carrying a basketball between her knees. Oh yeah, I didn't tell you, she's going on eight months. Yeah, she don't look it. Bane says the doc told 'em she carries tiny, that's why she don't look so big. Won't tell Bane if it's a boy or a girl yet, says she wants him to be surprised. _

_Me and Bane, we quit working for Francis. More like he layed us off, actually. Is nothing good can come of it. Poor guy is going under. Is not getting much in the ways of fish, but meatballs is cheap. Most of the stuff there now's tomato sauce and meatballs, sometimes potatoes is good too, but we's fisherman, can't do much like with that now. Now we're working in some of the off-shore oil rigs. Bane's got hisself a nice job on there too. Pay's good, and we's still home every night. Only thing is stinks to holy hell out there, but... could be worse. Is a couple of times we's had to go and shovel in the tar pits. Fucking disgusting mess that was. Bane reckons I looks like I's 34 now, nope, still 25._

_Mom's getting better with it, case you was wondering. She at least sits with me in the living room after I gets outta the shower. She says she's not so mad at you now, so I guess that's a start. Still no point in trying to come back yet, she might bite you's head off. Says it's 'the change'. Don't really know what that is, but maybe you could tell me._

_I gots myself a girl now too. Her name's Shayna. Nice enough girl. Kinda looks like that girl we used to know in high school. Blond, blue eyes, tall like a flagpole, big boobs? You remember her? Anyway, I's not so sure where that's going, I'm just glad I found someone who's not gonna run just cause I still gotta support Mom. She understand, she says, cause she had to do the same thing till her mom popped off from cancer. She said that, not me, I just wrote it down. _

_So anyway, just thought I's let you know what's going on with us now. Mom's yellin at the TV. She says she likes them trashy shows where them women don't know which one's the dad of the baby and testing a whole bunch'a guys and still don't know who it is. If she's yellin at the TV cause of it, can't see how she likes it. Oh well, she's weird enough, might as well let her have her TV to yell at if she wants._

_Write soon,_

_Gary_

**ooOoo**

_Gary,_

_Okay, considering that I can't afford a rain jacket and he offered to give me a ride home, even though I was less than a block away, and he was incredibly charming when he asked me. No, I didn't shag him once I got home. He lives in the same building, but what the hell would he want with me? I'm poor, he wouldn't want to be seen with me; I just work the damn snack bar, who would want me? DON'T say David Johns, if you do I'll come up there and smack you one. No, I will not go after Jim, he's my friend. I think he's the only real friend (besides you) that I've ever had. Besides, I think he might be gay..._

_Tell Marcie I say hold on. I want to know whether or not it's a boy or a girl. God, it'll break Bane's heart when he finds out, especially if it's a girl again. Hopefully the fates won't be so cruel, and give him that little boy he wants so badly. Oh, and when Mom mentions "the change", she means menopause. Remember when I started my period and I ended up bleeding all over the kitchen floor because I was completely unprepared for it? Menopause goes the other way. Mom won't be getting her period anymore, and she'll start getting hot flashes... but maybe she'll call them something else. Tropical moment? Pissed off mood? Air conditioner turned up so high you'll need three extra sweaters to keep warm. Oh yeah, ask her to make you another sweater, or buy one, they're not that expensive._

_Anyway, meatballs? Blech... never know what's in those things. And why the hell would you tell a job on the oil rigs and in the tar pits? You'll be dead before you're 34, but by that point you might look like you're 60. Doesn't that song say that each time you're in the tar pits and shit like that you take two years off your life? Didn't that happen to Papa? Papa was 56 when he popped off, and Nana said he'd been in the mines and stuff since he was 18. _

_Nope, I don't remember Shayna... is she supposed to look like the girl you used to hang out with in high school? Wasn't her name Paige? Built like a flagpole, blonde hair? Lotsa girls fit that description, buddy, and let me tell you, if I met this girl before, I was most likely NOT looking at her boobs. Much rather make sure my boobs were snug in my shirt instead of looking at someone else's. And girlfriend? HA! when was the last time you didn't nail and bail? _

_Write soon, ugly brother, and use a condom!_

_Viv_

**ooOoo**

_Viv, _

_You can be a right nasty bitch when you wanna be, did you know that? Don't tell me all about that menopause shit, that's sick! Blech, don't wanna know about that. Yeah, the time you bled all over the floor, sickening! I dunno what she call em, hasn't called em nothing yet, not that I know._

_Meatballs is good, don't be knocking them meatballs. Marcie makes em good, and Francis tries his damnedest. Speaking o' Marcie, she had a boy this past weekend! Bane can finally have his boy and quit telling me how much he wants a boy. They's calling the kid... damn it... Charlie I think. Yeah, Bane says 'is name is Charlie Albert Kearney. You know Kearney is Bane's last name so I don't gotta tell you that come from. Says seeing 'im born was the best thing in the world to see. I don't think so, think it's pretty gross._

_I's always using a condom, sis, don't need to worry bout that. And I never nail and bail. I had a serious relationship... once. Was fun while it lasted. Other than that... nah. Bitchy comment though, what crawled up your ass? Wasn't that Jack character, was it?_

_Gary_

**ooOoo**

_You're a right nasty bastard! Didn't I just you I ain't slept with him? And I ain't slept with Jimmy neither. Nothing crawled up my ass, besides I think I like it missionary, wasn't much for doggy style._

_Tell Bane and Marcie congrats, and tell em I want some pictures. Those kids are as much my nieces and nephew as anything!_

**ooOoo**

_Real nice letter you sent me last time there! Here's your damn pictures!_

**ooOoo**

_You're a real wanker, Gary. Write me again when you're done sprinkling your bastards up and down the Newfoundland coast!_

**ooOoo**

_Fuck you Viv!_

**ooOoo**

_Not likely, Gary, that would be illegal!_

**ooOoo**

_Dear Miss Hallet,_

_We are writing to you with a invitation to join us in Minnesota for the 1980 Olympic team tryouts. We are in need of your services from June through to February, from Minnesota to Lake Placid. If you are willing to accept this invitation, please respond by no later than April 16__th__._

_Herb Brooks_

_Head Coach_


	6. Recruiting Sergeant

**katydid13: Thank you**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: Herb likes to keep things short and sweet. Don't worry, she received a more detailed description in the mail a few days later. I'm so glad you loved the letters between Viv and Gary, here is more for you**

**rejazzz: This chapter won't have you laughing, but I think you'll enjoy it.**

**A/N: To avoid confusion, Gary and Vivianne are Canadian, and the story is set in 1979. Canada did not participate in Vietnam or any other war during this time. We were in Lebanon on a peace keeping mission, which is a major part of the story line. Special thanks for BEG 75 for the help with the story line.**

**ooOoo**

_The stone men on Water Street still cry for the day, when the pride of the city, went marching away. A thousand men slaughtered, to hear the King say…. Enlist you Newfoundlanders and come follow me_

_Recruiting Sergeant- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

It was another few weeks before I heard from Gary again, and I did I had accepted the job offer from this Herb Brooks. Apparently he wanted me as nothing more than… I guess you could say I was nothing more than a secretary. It wouldn't be a lot of money, and I'd have to sublet my apartment, but that was easy to do. I'd at least get three squares a day, better than stale popcorn, I'll tell you that.

I'd been waiting to see what Herb wanted me to do with this job he'd offered. He had told me to meet him at the University of Minnesota ice arena by the end of the first week of June. Wait a minute, I thought the coaching job wasn't made public until June… hmm… did he have a feeling that he'd gotten the job? Well, from what I know about Herb Brooks, which is not much, I admit he didn't really seem the type to be that big-headed.

While I started with this job I thought, hey, why not? Three squares a day and money to boot… sounds good. But still, if Herb wants me for the job we still have to figure out when and where this is happening, or if he even needs me for the team at all.

Turns out I really didn't have a lot to worry about. By June Herb was head coach of the 1980 U.S. Olympic team, and I was officially Vivianne Hallet, Olympic… paper pusher. Hooray for me.

As Herb worked through another drill on the ice that first day, I was in charge of sorting player applications and sorting locket room arrangements. As I grabbed the numerous amount of paper and tucked them under my arm, I felt them slip from my grasp and scatter all over the floor.

"Ah shit…" I whispered as I sank to my knees and proceeded to at least preserve what was left of my dignity and get these files to Herb's office.

"Need a hand?" I heard a suave, older voice ask.

I looked up and saw the face of none other than my big brother, Gary Hallet, walking toward me.

**ooOoo**

"Oh my God!" I shouted, standing up quickly and running as fast as I could. As soon as I reached him, I jumped into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist. "Oh my God, what are you doing down here?"

"I can't come to see my little sis once in a while? I's hasn't seen you in over five months."

"I know, I know, but this is… so unexpected! How did you find out I was in Minnesota?"

"A little birdie told me." He hugged me close again and let my feet drop to the floor before releasing me.

"You sure it wasn't a cod? Only bird I ever saw was that damned seagull that bit me in the leg when I was six."

"Some guy named Jimmy wrote to me and told me." Gary was smiling at me, that smile that I called the "Gary smile". It kind of curved to the right, only revealing a few teeth, but that was my brother.

"Jimmy wrote to you, did he?" I smiled back, patting my brother on the shoulder.

"Sure he did. Lemme tell you, sis, you've got a good job here."

"It's three squares a day and enough for me to live on so long's as I sublet my apartment," I answered, then turned to face him. "Look, Gary, you don't do anything without having something else in mind. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to tell you something in person, sis. Somehow telling you this in a letter wouldn't be the right thing."

"What are you talking about? Someone die or something?"

"No, no one died."

"But you're so serious, Gary. What happened?"

"We better sit down with this…" he grabbed my hand and led me to an obscure corner of the arena, where a ratty old table and chairs sat. I wondered how long it had been since someone had _washed_ the damn thing, let alone when the chairs had been replaced.

"Sit down, sis…" he told me.

"I'm sitting, Gary," I noted to him, although I'm sure he saw that my ass was firmly planted in the chair. "What the hell is going on?"

"I…"

"You what? What did you do? Shayna's not pregnant, is she?"

"No. Viv, Shayna isn't pregnant. It's got nothing to do with Shayna. It's about me."

"What happened, Gary? Just tell me!"

He was stoic for a moment before bending forward and whispering "I've joined up."

I stopped dead in my tracks. Had he just said what I thought he'd said?

"What?" I'm sure my mouth was open here. It couldn't be true. Gary would not do something so pigheaded, so _stupid._ Not when our mother needed him so badly. It was already bad enough that she felt I'd abandoned her, now this?

"I've joined up…"

I couldn't control what my body was doing. I got up out of the chair, stepped forward, grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt, and pulled him up. I'm surprised I was that strong, but even more so that he didn't even resist.

"No…" I let go of him and backed away from him. "No no no no, tell me you're lying. Please… Gary, tell me you didn't do this!"

"It's true Viv."

"I don't believe you!" I shouted. "You can't be serious!"

"I'm perfectly serious, Viv," he told me, holding out his hands to me. "I ship out from St. John's in a few days. I'm heading to Lebanon."

"Lebanon?" Lebanon? Why? I had no idea where that was, and even if I did I wouldn't even know what to say to that. "What's in Lebanon, Gary?"

"It's a peacekeeping mission, Vivianne," he told me. "We aren't there to fight, we're trying to restore order."

"I don't care if you're there to build a fucking _restaurant,_ Gary! How could you do this?"

He didn't answer me.

"You'll die, Gary. If you go over there you're going to die…" the tears were flowing steadily now. I was in shock. I didn't know what to say or do, and forget trying to wipe the tears and they flowed down my cheeks.

He kissed me on the forehead, hugged me tight, and without another word, left me standing there alone.

**ooOoo**

My hands still shaking, I grabbed the paperwork that sat on the table beside me and carried it to Herb's office. Once there, I couldn't contain myself any longer. I collapsed to the floor and curled into a ball against the wall. Why? Why did I have to be so stupid and leave Mom when I did? I should've known the 'You need to be independent. I'll get there eventually' wouldn't stick. No sane person wants to take care of their mother for the rest of their lives. Was this some sort of revenge on me for moving before he did?

The emotions that had taken hold on my intestines and was squeezing them for their own amusement where now holding on tighter than ever before. The tears came more fiercely as I felt my shoulders heaving up and down with shed and unshed tears. It was getting to the point where I didn't care where I was or who saw me, I was just ready to die at that point.

I heard the door open, a pair of shoes shuffle past me, and the squeak of the chair as someone sat down in it. I refused to look up and acknowledge who it was.

I heard nothing else but the sound of a pen scratching on paper. Once it stopped, the shuffling of feet ceased right by me, and soon enough, someone lifted my chin and looked me in the eye.

"You okay there, Vivianne?"

It was Craig Patrick, assistant coach. From what I had observed he was more likely to be the one to listen to his players and those closely associated with them. It seemed Herb and Craig were playing a sort of 'good cop, bad cop' routine. It wasn't hard to figure out who was who.

And to be honest, I couldn't be more thankful that it was him I was looking at at that moment.

I was even more surprised at his reaction to my next move. He helped me off the floor and placed his hands on my shoulders.

I couldn't stop myself. The tears flowed again and my face contorted into the saddest face I had probably even done, and collapsed into him.

He didn't hesitate to pull me close and hug me.


	7. Lucky Me

**rejazzz: What do I have in store for Vivianne? Read the chapter and find out! :)**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: That didn't happen to her, but she's dealing with it. Trust me, you'll like what happens here.**

**katydid13: Thank you**

**A/N: An extra special big thank you goes out to rejazzz and BEG75. Without them, this chapter would not have been completed, I'd still be fighting with the characters. They are an enormous help and let me tell you, thank you is never enough. Love you lots ladies.**

**ooOoo**

_He said storms always fade, after they've had their way, they're never as bad as they seem. As long as the river still runs to the sea, hey lucky you, lucky me. Hey lucky you, lucky me._

_Lucky Me- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

When I opened my eyes once again, I realized what I was doing. I was _hugging_ the Olympic team's assistant coach. No, I couldn't do this! This was wrong. Surely if someone caught us we'd be in deep shit, him especially.

"No…" I whispered against his shoulder and started to pull away.

"What?"

"This is wrong…" I told him. "I shouldn't be doing this. Sure, I was crying and upset, but I really shouldn't be hugging you. You're the assistant coach!"

"Yes, but I'm also human," he answered me. "Whatever upset you, Vivianne, it had to be big. Otherwise I know you would not be on the floor of Herb's office in absolute hysterics."

I pulled myself away from him completely and shook my head.

"You're not a robot, Vivianne," he reasoned with me.

I looked up and wiped a tear from my eye.

"Right…" I whispered to him. "I have work to do, and I'm sure you have to get things done." I pushed past him and made it to the door.

"Vivianne…" the tone of his voice changed, almost as though he was pleading for me to stay.

"Don't try, Craig," I turn to look at him and shook my head. "Don't… I'm not worth it."

With that, I let the door shut behind me.

**ooOoo**

Later that night, there was a knock at my dorm room door. I had just finished a load of laundry and was getting ready for a shower when the knock became more persistent.

"Alright, I'm coming!" I shouted as I threw a towel on to cover myself up and opened the door.

Gary was standing on the other side.

"I don't want to talk to you," I turned away from him and attempted to make my way toward the shower.

"Viv…" he pleaded, reaching out and grabbing my forearm.

"_Let go of me, Gary!"_ I didn't realize that I was shouting until I heard my voice echo throughout the room. "Let me go…" I hissed, dropping my voice dramatically. Ever since he had dropped the news on me that afternoon I could barely see straight. How the hell did he expect me to react? I was worried sick… not just about him but Mom as well. What did she think of this whole mess? She needed him to help keep a roof over their heads, not to be off in Kuwait or Sudan or whatever the hell it was he was going.

I waited until his fingers loosened from my arm and dropped.

"Viv… I know it's a shock for you, but you're going to have to accept it."

"I'm not worried about _me_, Gary. I'm worried about Mom! What is she going to do with all this?"

"She's moved in with Bane and Marcie."

"What!" I shouted. "They have a new baby… the _last _thing they need is to have _our mother_, who's a bitch at the best of times, move in with them while Marcie is still getting the girls used to having a new baby in the house!"

"That's why they offered to have her move in with them while we're away. They need the help and Mom's available… why not?"

"Get out…" I told him.

"I'm sorry…"

"_Out!"_ I shouted.

Once the door had closed behind him, I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the water for the shower. For once in my life, I wasn't sorry to see the back of Gary Hallet.

**ooOoo**

Craig Patrick had heard the ruckus from down the hall. It sounded as though someone was having it out big time. Not many of the boys on the team had steady girlfriends, and he knew Herb would not allow them to bring flings anywhere near the dorms, plus it was a female voice that had been predominate throughout the argument, and really… the only young woman staying with them in the dorms was Vivianne.

Her door opened and out stepped a tall, well muscled young man who looked like he could've crushed a car just by sitting on it. As Craig approached the young man, he realized that he didn't look much older than Vivianne.

"Excuse me…" Craig called, causing the young man to stop in his tracks.

"Yes?" was the answer he got.

"Can I help you?"

"No thanks, I was just leaving…"

"Really?" Craig extended his hand. "Craig Patrick."

"Gary Hallet, I'm Vivianne's brother…"

Craig nodded. "I'm guessing you were the one she was yelling at."

"That would be me," he let go of Craig's hand and smiled. "How do you know my sister?"

"She works for the head coach. I'm the assistant coach."

"Gotcha…" Gary nodded as he checked his watch. "Look, uh… I don't want to cause trouble or anything, but…"

"_Then get out of here!"_ came the response from behind Vivianne's door.

"See?" he nodded in the door's direction. "Alright I'm leaving, you stuck-up bitch!"

"Fuck you, you wanker!" she shouted back at him.

Snorting, Gary bade farewell, and Craig gently knocked on the door.

**ooOoo**

"Didn't I just… oh!" I opened the door to find Craig Patrick standing in the doorway. "Sorry, I thought you were…"

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, did you…" I placed my hand on my hip, very aware of the towel that now adorned my wet hair. "Did you hear that?"

"Every word…" he told me.

"Oh Jesus…" I put a hand to my face. "Sorry, it's just… I can't stand to look at him right now. What he told me this afternoon, it really… it really hasn't hit me yet. I don't know what I'm doing."

"Should I leave you alone then?" he asked me.

"Actually, I wondered why you're standing here. Did I miss something with that paperwork I brought over to Herb's desk?"

"No, no… don't worry about that… I just wondered what had happened, since I heard screaming."

"Oh well, now you know," I unwrapped the towel from my hair and threw it into the laundry basket in the corner of the room. I watched him as he turned to walk away. "Listen, Craig…"

He turned to look at me. There was something in his eyes… it almost seemed as though he were apprehensive in talking to me.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"For what?"

"I made you uncomfortable earlier, when I found you in Herb's office. Just know that that wasn't my intention." He held out a hand as a peace offering.

"I know," there wasn't any need to grab his hand. I knew he hadn't meant to do anything of the sort. He'd done what any concerned person would do. He wanted to help me, even if he didn't know what the problem was. "No need to apologize. In fact, Craig, I wanted to thank you…"

His eyebrow arched quizzically.

Before I could stop myself I had closed the gap between us, and gently pressed my lips to his. At first he was surprised… I could feel him pull back slightly, but it was only a split second before his arms enveloped me, and I stepped back, allowing him into my room. Before I knew it, my back was against the wall. Trust me, I was feeling more than just a tingling feeling throughout my entire body. It was then that I realized I genuinely liked Craig Patrick. His kiss was soft, but at the same time reassuring and… I guess you could say experienced.

Suddenly, I felt his hands on my shoulders.

"This is wrong…" he told me.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Vivianne…" he pulled away from me and straightened his tie.

"Craig?" I whispered to him as he turned to leave.

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Herb? Or the team?"

His smile was the only reassurance I needed. "My lips are sealed."


	8. Fisherman's Lament

**rejazzz: Enjoy this one then**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: (tents fingers like Mr. Burns) Excellent. Yes, I HAVE CONVERTED YOU**

**katydid13: You'll have to stay turned for more than, won't you?**

**ooOoo**

_My father is gone now, and the fish are gone too. Abused and mismanaged, oh what can we do? I'm too old to change, but what of my sons? How will they know, that we weren't the ones… DFO regulations, permitted the rape, of our beautiful ocean, from headland to cape. They brought in big trawlers, they tore up our twine, politicians don't care for what's yours or what's mine_

_Fisherman's Lament- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I knew by the time we had packed ourselves off to Norway, that nothing could happen between Craig and I. It wasn't right for me to take him away from the team; he was the assistant coach, and it was not my place to interfere. Besides, what would he want with me? I'm just a poor girl from Newfoundland who was known as Herb Brooks' secretary. In reality all I did was sort through paperwork.

Herb insisted that he needed me to travel with the team, not just as his secretary but also as a confidant for the team. They were separated from their homes and families, but even still they would've been used to that by now, I thought. Alright, if I could help the team in any way, I would.

I watched the game from the stands with the rest of the spectators… I guess in terms of Olympic staff I was on the low end of the totem pole, and as such relegated to the stands. Fine, as long as I got to watch the game.

By the time the game had finished, I had started to wish that I hadn't stayed to watch it. It was clear from the score of 3-3, that that wasn't going to be good enough. Those striving for an Olympic medal, and Gold at that, do not finish a game with a tie. You either win or you lose, but you better work damn hard, regardless of the result. The team had loafed their way through the game, and it was clear, even to me, that Coach Brooks was going to make them pay for it.

"You don't want to work during the game, no problem. We'll work now," there was a tone of absolute rage in his voice. "Goal line…" I saw him point to the right. "_That_ one!"

The guys sheepishly lined up where he told them. Handing Craig a whistle, Herb watched as they raced back and forth, back and forth, across the ice. Sounds of blades sliding and scraping across the ice had chills running down my back.

It wasn't long before I heard the team doctor, Dr. George Nagobads, telling Herb that it had gone on long enough and that if they didn't stop, someone would get hurt.

I couldn't take it once Craig continued blowing the whistle. Signalling that I was going to the washroom, I excused myself and made it to the hallway before reaching into my purse and pulling out an envelope addressed to me from the Canadian Army. Gary must have put me down as his next of kin, since my mother wouldn't be able to handle it. She was safe with Bane and Marcie, and we had to keep it that way.

I opened the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper that was enclosed.

_Miss Vivianne Hallet,_

_We regret to inform you that your brother, Pte. Gary Hallet, was involved in a roadside bombing in the city of Beirut. Other peacekeepers involved were unable to free Pte. Hallet in time to save his life. He died quickly and did not know pain. _

_Please note that he will, in fact, be returned to St. John's as soon as we are able to send him. I am so sorry for your loss._

And it was signed.

My hands started shaking, the paper in my hands rattling as I struggled to read what it said again. It couldn't be true… it just couldn't… it had to be a mistake! It couldn't have been my brother, it had to be a mistake, it _had_ to be!

A horrible sound echoed throughout the hallway, like a wounded animal struggling for air. It was then I realized that it wasn't a wounded animal… that sound was coming from me.

I screamed. Before I knew what I was doing, I screamed.

**ooOoo**

I heard the sound of people running toward me, but I didn't acknowledge them. I was shaking so badly I couldn't see or think straight. The paper had fallen from my hands and had somehow made it's way across the hall.

Someone had bent down beside me and gently touched my arm.

"Vivianne?"

I couldn't answer.

"Come on, darlin'" I felt someone's hand grip mine, helping me to my feet, and walking with me to the washroom.

"I can't come in with you, it's the men's washroom!" I insisted.

"There's no one else here, come on…" he led me to the sink and very gently dabbed my face with a paper towel. He must have done so about four or five times before I was able to at least able to control my breathing and my face seemed less flushed.

"What happened?" I was asked once the tears stopped. "Oh, Jimmy… it's you."

"Yeah," he swept my hair back from my face. "What happened?"

"How did you get off the ice?"

"Never mind that, Herb called off the drill."

"Why?"

"We all heard you screaming, love," he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "Even Herb Brooks is not so much of a prick as to keep a drill going if a woman screams."

"There wasn't any need to stop a drill on my behalf."

"On the contrary, Viv, we're all glad to see it end," he chuckled. "We can barely move, he's worked us so hard."

"Should've just let me be, then."

"You're not thinking straight, Vivianne. It pains me to see you so upset."

I looked at him through burning eyes. I could barely see him, but the look on his face told me he really was concerned. I slid down the length of the wall till I was able to hug my knees. Jim didn't waste any time in following my actions and placing his arm around my shoulder.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

I nodded.

"We'll get you back to the hotel and draw you a bath with a cup of tea," he told me as he lifted me up and helped me get back to the bus. It was a quiet ride back to the hotel, and even more quiet once I had retired to the bathroom. I didn't wish to speak to anyone at that point, and by that time it was late anyway, so I changed into my pyjamas and went to bed.

Images of my brother running through the streets of Lebanon with a rifle in his hand, his helmet bouncing precariously as he ran plagued my night. I saw children reaching out to him, asking him for a cold drink, those running with him struggling to keep up… I saw him stop only once to take a drink himself before giving the rest to the children who had asked him for it. That was Gary, through and through. Kind and chivalrous as ever.

Then, I saw it. I saw what must have happened to him. He had been walking with several others down the busiest street in Beirut, when a car parked near him exploded. They called it a roadside bomb, or a car bomb… one of the two.

I woke up the next morning to a wet pillow… I had been crying in my sleep. When we took off in the plane back to the States, I knew I had to go back to St. John's. My mother would not get there in time… I'm sure she hadn't even found out yet, or if she had there might not have been a chance for her to arrange transportation out there. As such, I had to be the one to receive my brother's body, and attend his funeral.

It would break my heart to tell Herb and Craig that I had to leave the team. They would have done the same thing had they been in my position. Gary was my best friend, above all my brother, and he was gone.

I knew it was my fault. If I had not been so headstrong and left home before he had he could've gotten out on his own and not done something so impulsive! It was something I knew I'd regret for the rest of my life. If I had known that they last words I'd ever say to my brother would be 'fuck you, you wanker,' I wouldn't have said it.

Indeed, I'd have told him I loved him, and that I was proud of having him for a brother.

I'd never see him again, and that hurt me more than words can express. What's yours and what's mine indeed.


	9. General Taylor

**rejazzz: Read and see what happens :)**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: If it had been Craig who'd gone to her first it might've been too much too soon. It's important that it happened so soon, and you'll see part of the reason why in this first chapter. Thanks for the review, love**

**katydid13: This is what happens next.**

**A/N: I would encourage everyone reading to have tissues handy for this chapter. If your keyboard gets wrecked because you're crying, I claim no responsibility. You have been warned.**

**ooOoo**

_We'll lower him down on a golden chain. Walk him along, John, carry him along. On every inch we'll carve his name. Carry him to his burying ground_

_General Taylor- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

Once we settled back into the routine and familiarity of the University of Minnesota's ice, I decided, even though it would break my heart, and more than likely leave Jack and Jimmy without a friend, I had to do it. I had to ask Herb if I could leave.

I made my way to his office and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

"Herb…"

He looked up at me over the top of his glasses. Seeing how red my eyes must've been, his expression immediately softened. "Everything okay?"

"Uh, not really…" I answered. I'm sure this was the first time he'd ever seen me express emotion.

"Come on in, sit down," he told me. I obeyed and waited till he said something. I handed him the letter I'd received, and told him I had to go back. I was Gary's next of kin, and I had to receive his body. Until he landed on Canadian soil, and his casket laid to rest, and his flag handed to me, he was the property of the Canadian Army.

I don't remember saying goodbye to the team, because I don't think I did. I think I saw Herb nod, telling me that there was no way he would make me take care of the team till I taken care of myself. Once I knew that my brother was safe again, and when I felt better, he'd be glad to hire me again.

I don't remember the flight back to St. John's airport, but I remember Marcie came to meet me. She hugged me tightly and told me my mother was waiting at their house, helping Bane with Charlie and the girls.

I barely remember saying anything once I got in the door. I know all I had to do was take one look at my mother, hold up the letter, and fling myself into her arms. She sat me down on the couch and stroked my hair as I cried. I knew she was upset too, but she didn't show it. My mother was funny that way. Marcie made a pot of tea and sat down with us while Bane got the kids into bed.

I know the funeral was arranged by the Army. Any time a soldier died serving their country, they were given a proper send off. I don't remember writing the eulogy, I know I wrote one, because if no one who knew him said anything at his funeral, then we would not be able to accept that he was really gone.

**ooOoo**

The day of the funeral, I stood up in front of our entire town, and said what I needed to say. I only had a day or two to write it, so I just put pencil to paper, and the entire eulogy spilled out.

If you'd like to hear what I wrote, here it is. Please know that it was the worst, most difficult thing I'd ever done, but I needed to do it. Please don't judge our family on what you see here. This is my goodbye to the greatest man I think I'll ever know, and I am choosing to share it with you.

_I know why you are all here today, and I'd like to thank you all for coming. To me, it seems really odd that we're standing here, mourning and marking the grave of someone that was here just two or three months ago._

_People have asked me why it had to be Gary that decided to join up and risk his life for our freedom, and all I can say is this: I don't know. When I asked my mom the same thing she said "You only have a limited amount of days, Vivianne, and when your time is up, it's up." I wonder if she really believes that. She never mentioned anything to do with the Big Guy Upstairs, or religion before this… maybe she thought it might help in some way. As much as she tried, it doesn't help at all, the pain is still there. _

_I'm not really sure what I can tell you. Everyone here knew our family at some point. Some of you may not, and I could ask you what the hell you're doing here, but I won't. It's not what Gary would want. He accepted all people, no matter what. In fact, having you here shows just how much Gary meant to you, and how much this town meant to him._

_I guess I should tell you a little bit of why he might've made the decision he did. I moved from home to Boston for work a little over six months ago. Before I left he told me he'd look after our Mom. We'd fallen on really hard times since our Dad died, and I needed to get out and be independent. Gary hugged me and told me I was strong enough to go out and do it. He gave me the courage I didn't know I had. When I left he told me he'd get there eventually… he'd do the same thing when Mom could stand on her own two feet._

_He joined up three months after I left and came down to Minnesota, where I ended up working with the prospects of the Olympic hockey team, to tell me he was shipping out to Lebanon. I don't know where that is, but that's where he was going. I ordered him out of my room, I didn't want to believe it was true, that if I pinched myself it would all be just a horrible nightmare that I could wake up from. When he tried to apologize all I said was "Fuck you, you wanker." Those were the last words I ever said to him. If I had known, I wouldn't have said it. Believe me, I wouldn't have said it. I would've told him I was proud of him, and lucky that he was my brother._

_Gary was the one who taught me my first word. It didn't matter that the word was 'tit', Mom said, so long as I was talking. My daddy was a sealer, swears weren't a big deal, and neither was walking around naked. We were a bit kooky, sure, but that doesn't mean we didn't laugh, cry, work. Didn't have much time for playing, but when we did it was mostly because we only had each other._

_If Gary could take a shot at you, make fun of you, he would. But he wouldn't think twice of extending a hand to pick you up when you really needed it. No matter what he was doing, he'd stop to help you. Speaking of help, I had a dream the other night, and it was about what must've happened, how he died. I saw him stop to take a drink, and two young children sitting on the sidewalk holding up their hands, asking for Ma'a. Water. They just wanted water. Gary took one sip and gave the rest to the kids. Then the car he was standing beside exploded, and then he died._

_All I'm trying to say I guess is that I believe Gary died a hero. A son, brother, and a friend first, a soldier and hero first._

And there you have it. That's all I have left of my brother. Gary Dean Hallet, born November 26th, 1954, died 1979.

I'll miss him more than you could ever know, and truth be told, I don't know if I'll be going back to Minnesota, not after this.

Not till I know Gary is alright.

He'll let me know when he's ready.

When he's ready.


	10. My Apology

**katydid13: Have tissues handy for this one too. Thank you for the review**

**rejazzz: She's a strong girl, but she's not done grieving. Not in the slightest. Thanks for the review.**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: Not to worry, that eulogy was said at home, so as not to offend anyone. She'll get through it, she always does, I promise. Thanks for the review, muchly appreciated.**

**ooOoo**

_It's not the way that I intended this. I didn't realize how much I would miss… but with every parting of our company, I hate to think what it has done to me._

_My Apology- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I went back to the team at my mother's urging. She knew I needed the chance to be independent. I'd done my part in bringing my brother home safely. He was buried where Daddy would've been, and that was all she needed, Mom said. He was ours now, and that was all that mattered.

The plane ride back was… I don't really remember. I remember getting off the plane and who was there to meet me but none other than Jim Craig and Jack O'Callahan. It must've been a rest day for the team, otherwise I'd have to get a cab back to the dorms. But why the hell would they want to spend the day waiting for me at the airport?

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?"

"We came to hug you and then take you home!" Jack pulled me into a big, tight hug and kissed my temple.

"Let go, Jack, I want in," Jimmy chuckled and gently tugged on my shoulder. He too pulled me into a hug and whispered, welcome home. For some reason, I couldn't let go of him. I guess I felt that if I did I would collapse. I had barely slept in the week I'd been home, and airplane seats are not at all comfortable. Plus I was so worn out from grieving for my brother I just needed reassurance that I was going to be okay. Jimmy had lived through it… he could help.

Jimmy kept his arm around me until we returned to the dorms. Herb had gone back to his hotel room and did not want to be disturbed. Herb Brooks was not one to be trifled with. He could make or break their careers, as far as I was concerned, and I didn't want to jeopardize their chances, no matter if I was back.

I walked through the hallway as I tried to remember where the hell I'd put my key. I hadn't been gone for that long, it can't have been that difficult to remember where a key could've been placed. Rummaging through the bag in which I kept keys, wallets, and other such things, I found it. It was a metallic colour, and big enough to see, so why had it taken me so long?

Trying to turn the key in the lock, I could barely hold myself together. Everything seemed so much more difficult, and that included opening a door. It hurt to know that my brother would never come back to surprise me, and maybe that's what I needed the most. I could move forward, but it felt like something was missing. I let out a sob, yelling "Come on, damn you, turn!", kicking the door in the process, and finally, the lock relented.

I collapsed on the bed without even thinking of what I was doing. I didn't think to take off my shoes, and my bag that held all my belongings dropped to the floor with a thud that did not match it's size. I buried my face into the pillow and sobbed.

Someone must have heard me, because the bed sank with added weight. I felt a hand on my back, and it did not move. They didn't say anything, and if they did I didn't hear it. Instead, they laid down beside me and held me.

Once my sobs gave way to hiccups, I turned around and saw Jimmy.

"I'm sorry…" I reached and clung to him for dear life. As I turned my head to rest it on his chest I felt a wet spot. My tears had soaked his shirt. "God, Jimmy, I'm sorry. I just…"

He ran a hand over my hair. "It's alright, Vivianne."

"No, it's not alright. Your shirt will be ruined…"

"I can always buy another shirt, Vivianne," he reasoned.

"I don't know what I'm doing…" I sobbed into his shirt again. "I just… I miss him so much. It wasn't needed… he didn't need to die."

"No one _needs_ to die," he told me. "But it happened. We don't have the ability to reverse time and do it all over again," he whispered to me.

"It's not fair!" I beat my fist against his chest.

"I know…" he grabbed my wrist and got me to sit up. "I know…" he told me again and I struggled to hit him again.

"I want my brother back!" I sobbed, trying to push him away. "I want him back!" I bent forward and covered my head with my hands. I don't know why; maybe I was trying to protect myself against something I didn't want to feel.

Jim had his hand on my back, leaning forward with me but saying nothing.

"It's all my fault, Jimmy," I blurted out. "If I had stayed in Bonavista and not been such an uncomfortable bitch, he'd still be alive!"

"He was killed because of a roadside bomb in Beirut, Vivianne," he told me.

"That's my fault too!" I was close to screaming. "He only joined up so he could ship out and get a life of his own! Don't you think I know that if I had just stayed where I was supposed to he would still be alive?"

His hand ran in a circle on my back, and I flinched, throwing his arms off me, and turning to look at him.

"Leave me alone…" I choked out. That was it, if I was going to cry this out and fight with myself, I wasn't going to have him there.

"Viv…"

"_I said leave me alone!"_ I shouted, glaring at him until he left the room.

And when the door shut, it was then that I was finally able to let go.

With the thirty seconds it took for the door to close, I suddenly found breathing to be very difficult. Just looking at his picture made me choke back bile. How could he leave me like that? He was supposed to wait till Mom got back on her feet, not when I had just left and was struggling to make ends meet myself.

Finally, just the rage and devastation I felt looking at his _stupid_, smug smile in that photograph made me do the unthinkable. I reached for the framed portrait and threw it. It shattered against the wall, sending glass and pieces of the frame sailing to the floor.

"You told me you'd take care of her, you bastard!" I shouted. "You weren't supposed to do this… you weren't supposed to go!"

I looked for something else to throw, and I found a discarded shoe. I hurled it against the door and barely heard the THUD it created.

"Why did you _leave _me!" I sobbed. "I want you back! I want my brother back!"

Deciding that it would not be enough to throw something, I whacked my fist off the door, and let out another choking sob. I couldn't stand to know that he was gone…

"You fucking bastard! How could you do it? How could you go and get yourself killed? Don't you know Mom needs you?" I yelled at no one in particular. I think it was the window this time. "Don't you know that _I _still need you? How the hell could you be so _selfish?"_

I threw my shoulder into the door and waited for the cracking sound I knew was coming.

"_I fucking hate you!"_ I screamed, sliding to the floor, gasping for air and tears still rolling down my cheeks.


	11. Everything Shines

**Brown eyed Girl 75: He really does try, he's a very good friend. And that freak out... I don't even remember writing it, it just popped into my head and BOOM, it was down on the paper. Vivianne will get a nice offer in this chapter, no worries. Thank you so much for the review, you have no idea how much I appreciate your friendship :)**

**ooOoo**

_All we losers, stand in line, just waiting for our time. Broken angel, take that plane and, finger paint the sky, till everything shines._

_Everything Shines- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I woke up the next morning curled up against the wall, my hair mussed and tangled from lying in an awkward position all night. My neck hurt from lying on the floor, and I could barely open my eyes from the matter that had accumulated overnight. Forcing myself into a sitting position, I felt a sudden, sharp pain in my hand.

"Ah shit!" I muttered, bringing my hand up to see what had happened. There was blood running down from my hand to my forearm. I could see shards of glass glistening in the light that was coming from the window, in fact some were still stuck to my palm.

Then I remembered. I'd chucked Gary's picture at the door and the glass in the picture frame had shattered.

I was still blurry eyed from waking up, but somehow I managed to find my way to the apartment down at the other end of the hall. I didn't even realize whose apartment it was till the door opened.

"Vivianne…" Craig rubbed an eye.

"Craig…" I muttered, almost in shock. "I… uh… I think I need Doc," I lifted my hand to show him the wound.

"Holy shit…" He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me inside. Sitting me down on the bed, he ran into the washroom and came back carrying a first aid kit.

"Alright, I'm just going to wipe a little of this blood off, and I'll wrap it at least until we get to the arena…" Gently, he pressed a piece of clean gauze damp with antiseptic to the wound and cleaned off some of the blood. Surprisingly, it didn't sting as much as I thought it would. In fact, the way he paid such close attention to my hand, and delicately examined the extent of the damage.

"You know, this isn't too bad, actually."

I nodded, absolutely fascinated with his lips. The way he spoke made me think of water; he was so fluid, but at times a little hesitant. The words he spoke just sounded garbled to me. I guess it was because I wasn't really focusing on what he was saying.

"Vivianne?"

"Huh?" I shook my head to find Craig still staring at me, his eyes full of concern.

"Doc will clean you up when we get there."

"Oh yeah…" I nodded. "Yeah, that's…" I took a deep breath. "That's great."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright," I muttered.

With that, he offered to take me to the arena so Doc could have a look at my hand before the rest of the team got there. Once the team arrived, he told me, Doc was completely devoted to them and their needs.

"Aren't I part of the team?" I asked. Oh shit, that sounded juvenile, but I was still so tired I don't even know if I actually said that.

"Yes of course," he smiled at me. "But Herb works these kids so hard it's always touch and go with who might end up with what injury and such and such."

"Okay," I agreed, though I've got to admit it didn't make much sense to me at that point. Honestly, I was still reeling from the events last night. All I really remember is throwing the picture frame and it shattering, but why had I thrown it? What was I so upset about?

"Craig?" I asked, tentative of what the answer might be.

"Yeah?"

"What happened last night?"

He shook his head. "Not sure what you're talking about."

"There's glass on my floor and I don't even remember why it's there," I explained. "I would not have this cut on my hand if it weren't for that glass. What the hell did I do?"

He sighed. "We'll talk about that later…"

"Come on, Craig, there's no point in postponing it," I pushed.

"Viv, we need to get this looked at. Just drop it and we'll come right back to that, alright?"

"No, I need to know what the hell happened."

He just shook his head and motioned to tell me that he was going to find Doc. "Keep that arm elevated," he told me. When Doc appeared less than 10 minutes later, he smiled at me and asked what had happened.

"I don't know myself," I explained. "When I woke up this morning there was shattered glass and a broken picture frame on the floor, and I guess that's where the cut came from."

He nodded, taking sterilized tweezers and picking the glass out of my palm. There wasn't that much, he said, but it's good that we got it out sooner rather than later. The cut itself was clean, but the glass could've welcomed a thousand and one bacterium and caused an infection. Once the glass had been removed, he cleaned the cut with another douse of antiseptic and wrapped my hand in bandages.

"Thank you," I smiled as he left the room. Turning my attention back to Craig, I pleaded with him for some sort of answer.

"Tell you what," he started. "Once the team finishes up for the day… what would you say to, uh… joining me for dinner?"

I shook my head, hoping that, if fact, I had heard him correctly. "Pardon?"

He cleared his throat. "Would you like to join me for dinner?"

I smiled, fluttered at the sentiment. "Sure."

Before he left to go and tend to the team, who was just arriving by the sounds of it, I kissed his cheek.

**ooOoo**

I guess someone must have seen it happen, but I didn't hear anything about it until Jimmy pulled me aside when we got back to the apartments.

"Vivianne, I don't want to hurt your feelings but, are you sure it's a good idea?"

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you kiss Craig earlier," he told me.

"Uh huh… what's wrong with that?"

"It's just… he's the assistant coach…" Jim reasoned. "There's something in the Olympic code that forbids any romance between members of an Olympic team."

"But there's nothing to forbid the coaches…" I answered. "I mean, Herb and Doc are both married…"

"The Committee can't discriminate against a coach or candidate if they're married or otherwise, Vivianne," he agreed with me. "But you're my friend, I'm just worried about you."

"I appreciate it, Jimmy…" I hugged him before unlocking my door. "Look, I'm a big girl. I'll be alright."

"It seems that's all I hear you say, Viv. 'I'm alright', 'I'm alright', no one is that okay with everything that's happened. I'm going to ask you, once, Vivianne, and I'm only asking because you're my friend and I love you. Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she stressed the word to make a point. "Yes, everything is okay. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work, Jim. And if it doesn't, I shall just move on." I opened my door and smiled before he turned and went back down the stairs.

Turning to my mirror, I couldn't help but see the fact that, tough as I may be, I was still dirt poor, and I was exhausted. Who the hell would want anything to do with me?

Exhaling, I picked up the phone and dialled Marcie. Hopefully she would understand. I don't even know if I was ready for this… the only relationship I'd ever had was… well, none. Never had any time for it. I worked all the time, but so did Bane, and he and Marcie had had six kids by the time they were twenty-four and twenty-five. What was I afraid of? And did I have any reason to be afraid?

The phone rang a few more times before someone actually picked up.

"Hello?" That wasn't Marcie at all, it was one of the girls. Couldn't be Linda or Debbie, because they just went straight into talking… more like babbling but what can you do? I love them nonetheless.

"Abigail?" I asked.

"Hi Auntie Viv," the tone in her voice really picked up.

"Hey, is your mom home?"

"Yeah, she's just putting Charlie to sleep. She says he needs a nap…"

"Oh yeah?" she tried to feign amusement. "What do you think about having a little brother?"

"It's kinda weird. He has a pee-pee!" she giggled at the word, I guess Bane and Marcie didn't want the word 'penis' being circulated in the house just yet. So, of course, 'penis' is now regulated to the word 'pee-pee'. Okay, fine. My mother didn't really explain what sex was until I asked what a tampon was used for when I was ten.

"All boys have 'pee-pee's, Abby…" I couldn't help but chuckle. "Boys and girls are very different, and it's okay to ask if you're curious."

"But Mommy and Daddy don't want to talk about it much," she told me.

"Well, they're very busy with Charlie and your other sisters right now, sweetheart…" I tried. "When it's not so busy maybe you could try again?"

"But I don't want them to get mad at me…" Oh dear, poor thing. It's tough to be eight and not know much, even though she wants to know everything, and she's so smart… why shouldn't she want to know?

"They won't get mad at you, darling," I wanted so badly to hug her right then and there. Could it be that this was the first time she really would know what it was like to have a new sibling, since she probably couldn't remember any of her sisters coming into the family. Could it be she was a little jealous?

"But…"

"But…" I prompted.

"I miss you…"

Oh, _that's _what this was about.

"I miss you too, Abby," I confessed. It's true, I really did miss them. Bane and Marcie were practically the only friends I had when I was at home, and I was so lucky to have them there when we buried my brother. Bane and Gary were the best of friends as well, but still, Abby had trouble adapting to change, and to not have her Uncle Gary or her Auntie Viv to talk to and with a new baby brother… she probably really needed a friend.

"When will you be coming home?"

"In late February, darling," I told her.

"But that's a really long way away," she pouted.

"Abby, do not pout…" I couldn't scold her, but a firm instruction was really all she needed. "Look, you know the paper chains your mom does with you when you're waiting for Santa?"

"Uh huh…"

"Why don't you ask her to do one with you to count the days until I come home?"

"Okay…" she answered.

There was a knock at the door before I could say anything else.

"I have to go, Abby. I've got things to do."

"Okay, I love you, Auntie Viv. I'll say hi to Mommy for you."

"Thank you, bye bye."

I hung up the phone and went to get the door. Standing on the other side was none other than Craig Patrick.

"Hey there, are you ready?" he offered me his arm.

I smiled and shrugged at the fact that I was still wearing the same clothes from this morning. But he had changed from his hockey gear into a polo shirt and a pair of jeans. He looked… dare I say it… casual. Far more than I had ever seen him before.

"Lead the way, Mr. Patrick…" I smirked.


	12. Fast As I Can

**Brown eyed Girl 75: This is the date chapter! And I'm so glad you loved Abby being her curious little self. Thank you so much for the review, made my day! :)**

**ooOoo**

_Don't push me in too deep, I've always been, the fool who rushes in. I know you've got to take the pieces one by one, for you've got everything. So forgive me if we take time, but there's something that's been on my mind. I'm going fast as I can, please don't make me rush, this feeling's coming on way too fast. I'll tell you all of the things that you'll never forget, but I'm not ready to say I love you yet, I'm not ready to say I love you yet._

_Fast As I Can- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

Craig and I walked from the apartment complex to a quiet, little restaurant not far from where we were living. We sat down in a corner booth, ordered our drinks and waited. It was pretty quiet for a Saturday night, but in all honesty, it was nice to have that peace and quiet. I could concentrate on what I wanted to say and not have to worry about other people hearing us.

"So, Vivianne…" Craig began. "I don't know very much about you."

"The same could be said for you, Craig," I smiled. "I don't know very much about you."

"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

"You first."

He chuckled and smiled.

"I got into hockey before I could walk," he told me.

"Yeah…"

"It's true," he chuckled. "My grandfather and father were both in the NHL, my brother is too, and I just finished my eighth year. No intention of going back though."

"Why not? Didn't you enjoy it?"

"Sure I enjoyed it, but you can't play forever," he reasoned. "After that I applied for a coaching position here, and they accepted it. So, here I am," he cleared his throat and took a sip of water. "What about you? What did your dad do?"

"He was a sealer," I answered. "Worked in the fisheries when the water wasn't frozen and hunted seals when it was."

"Does he still work now?"

"Nope, he dropped off an ice flow when I was five…" I said it as bluntly as I could, it was the only way to say it. "Drowned, they said. The others brought his belongings home to my mother, and then I started working three years later."

"You were eight when you started working?"

"Yep, I pulled cod tongues and sold them," I told him. "Not the most glamorous of jobs but with the income it brought we were okay for a while."

He nodded at me.

"Then the government intervened, and we lost everything." I told her. "They started closing the fisheries and told us 'Oh don't worry, we'll re-train you and you'll put in three jobs worth of income per month.' What they said was true… my mother, brother, and me all worked fifteen hour days but it was still only enough to pay the rent."

"How…"

"We did it, we managed, but needless to say we've all learned to survive with nothing," I told him. "The whole reason I took this job when Herb offered it to me was to get three squares a day, and to make money."

"So, you're not interested in hockey at all?"

"Not particularly, but in all honesty, I _like_ watching you guys. I may be on the low end of the Olympic staffing totem pole and relegated to the stands, but… dare I say it, it's fun."

"Fun for you, not for them, I'm sure," he chuckled. "So, other than the guys you have here, do you have any friends that you left back home?"

"I'll be honest, Craig, I never really had the time," I smiled. "Kids made fun of me for working when I should have been playing, and when my dad died, I hit a kid and gave him a bloody nose for saying my dad let himself drown so he'd get away from my mom. Called her a cheap floozy."

"Doesn't really help your cause, huh?"

"Nope, not at all," I took a big sip of water. It was strange. I'd never actually told anyone about what had happened to my dad and felt so at ease with it. Craig wasn't judging me, he was just listening and inserting little comments where it would lighten the mood. I'd never been around someone who had taken the news like that.

"But my brother's best friend got married and his wife and I became very close. Bane and my brother worked together for nearly 12 years before Gary died. Marcie was the biggest support for me when it happened. She sat with me during the funeral, with a newborn baby in her arms and just let me cry."

"How old is Marcie?" he asked.

"Twenty-four, same as me."

"Her first baby?"

"Nope, Charlie is her sixth…"

"Six?" his eyes went wide. "Six kids and she's only twenty-four? Are any of them twins?"

"No, all single pregnancies," I admitted. "I don't know how she does it."

"Why six?"

"Craig, where I'm from, there's not a lot to do," I couldn't help but laugh. "You either work or stay at home and have kids. Marcie chose to have kids and work from home as a seamstress."

"But twenty-four and six kids?"

"It's not that hard to wrap your head around, believe me…" I told him. "Here, let me show you…" I reached into my purse and pulled out the envelope in which Gary had sent me those photos. "Here, there's Abby, she's eight." I pulled out another, "this one is of Michelle, Debbie and Linda. Michelle is six, Debbie is five, Linda's three, " there was one more in the package. "And that one is of Kim, she's two, and she's holding the newest addition, Charlie."

"Damn…" he fingered the pictures one by one. "These kids are beautiful."

"What about you? Do you like kids?"

"Of course I like kids. Why do you think I coach?"

"Would you want some of your own someday?"

"Perhaps," he told me. "Haven't found the right woman to settle down with."

"That's too bad…" Craig Patrick was a handsome guy. He was kind, passionate about his work, a good listener, what woman wouldn't want him? Let me tell you, I felt a connection to him. I wanted to see where it would go. But then I realized I was nine years younger than he was… there was no way it would work.

"Actually, Craig, I just realized something," I started as the hostess set plates of salad in front of us. "The whole reason I agreed to go to dinner with you was so I could find out why there was glass on my floor. What did I do last night?"

He shook his head and closed his eyes. He looked as though he didn't want to tell me.

"You were screaming for about an hour last night…"

"What about?"

"Something about how someone wasn't supposed to leave you and promising to take care of your mother while you got back on your feet. Something like that, I'm not exactly sure…"

"Oh…" this was bringing it back. I knew exactly what had happened after that. I had taken Gary's framed photograph and chucked it against the door, considering I was so angry and upset. Then… wait, that still didn't explain why my shoulder was still hurting.

"I heard you yelling and then a smashing sound. I think you threw yourself into the door and then… that's it. You were quiet for the rest of the night…"

"You heard me all the way at the end of the hall?"

"I'm pretty sure everyone heard you," he answered, "we just didn't want to say anything, we all thought you'd say something when you were ready."

I smiled, chuckling at the thought. "I'm not sure I would've said anything," I had to admit it. What would I have done? Gathered the entire team in a circle and said 'Okay children, this is what happened last night'. No, more than likely not. I barely remembered anything at all. It wasn't until now when Craig had said something that I knew it had actually happened.

"Even still…"

Suddenly the door opened and a few of the guys from the team came in.

"Ah shit," I muttered under my breath. This wasn't something they needed to know, in fact, it was bad enough that Jimmy knew, and had in fact _warned _me against such a relationship. I saw nothing wrong with the fact that Craig Patrick had asked me out to dinner and the fact that I'd kissed his cheek, it was not as though we were actually dating at all. What's the harm in a dinner between, for lack of a better word, colleagues?

"Oh, Vivianne, there you are!" Mark Johnson ran toward me and stopped short of the chair. "Really sorry to bother you, but Jim got a call from someone named Michelle who will only talk to you…"

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"No, the only thing she said was that she wanted to talk to you."

"Something's wrong!" I knew that wasn't like Michelle at all. She wouldn't call and say she only wanted to talk to me unless something wasn't right. Usually she just jumped right into conversation. Granted, she _was_ only six years old. What more do you want from a six year old girl? "Craig, I'm really sorry, I've got to go, something's wrong with the girls."

"By all means, go," he insisted.

I looked at him, uneasy with the fact that he was going to be stuck with the bill.

"Really, it's okay. I've got the bill. Go…"

I ran out the door, back down the street to find Jim holding on to the phone and trying to soothe the little girl I knew was on the other end of the phone.

"Hold on, darling, here's your Auntie Viv," he handed the phone to me and wiped his brow.

"Thank you…" I whispered to him and I removed my hand from the mouthpiece. "Hello?"

"Auntie Viv?" Michelle's small voice sniffled on the other end.

"Michelle, what's the matter?"

"I wanted to say goodnight…"

"Honey, it's not even seven o'clock here…" it was then that I remembered the time change. It was at least two and a half hours difference between Minnesota and Bonavista, and usually the kids were in bed by now.

"I'm sorry."

"No honey, you didn't know. But please, next time you'd like to talk to me, don't say that you have to talk to me right away. It made me very scared because I thought something was wrong. My friends had to come and get me from my meeting."

"Oh…"

"Yeah… just remember for next time, okay?"

"Okay, goodnight Auntie Viv…"

"Goodnight Michelle."

"Love you."

I smiled. "I love you too, goodnight now."

I hung up the phone and turned to see Craig waiting by the phone next to me. Taking a deep breath, I wiped the sweat off my forehead. It was just a relief to know nothing was wrong, that Michelle had only called to say goodnight. I know I shouldn't feel so paranoid, but I was so scared that every phone call I'd be getting would be to tell me that I'd lost someone else. I know that sounds odd but it's true.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah…" I nodded, my chuckling turning into a sob. "Yeah, everything's okay. She just wanted to say goodnight…" I felt a tear slip down my cheek.

"Vivianne…" He reached for me, offering a hand in support.

"No," I turned away from him. "No. Craig, I have to deal with this on my own. I'll be okay."

"Vivianne," he repeated. "You're not a robot. Let me help you."

"You can't help me, Craig…"

"Yes I can," he insisted, still offering a hand.

I slipped my hand in his, and a warmth I hadn't known before spread from my fingers through to my entire body. I can't really explain what it was, it was like an electric charge, in fact, I think I jumped a little.

"Come on," he pulled me close and held me. Closing my eyes, I don't think we moved for the better part of five minutes. I can still smell him, like fresh ice on a damp morning, and truth be told, it was wonderful. His hand slid up and down my back, and it was almost the most erotic thing I'd ever felt.

_What the hell?_

Snap out of it, damn you! I won't deny that it was soothing, but nothing was ever going to happen between us. If it didn't work out it would tear the whole team apart, and I couldn't have that. I didn't want to lead Craig on, either. He deserved more than that, he deserved a woman who wasn't so close to the team, one who understood his love of hockey… not someone as poor and unable to give back as I was.

"Craig?" I murmured.

"Hmm?"

"What's next on the schedule?"

"We leave for New York tomorrow…"

"Then do you think it's best to let go?"

Chuckling, he obliged. Running his knuckles down my cheek, I knew it.

I knew I was starting to fall in love with Craig Patrick.

A dangerous undertaking for sure.


	13. Own True Way

**rejazzz: We all love Craig Patrick! Here's more, thank you for the review**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: She BEST be, but... well, ah I can't spoil it! Thank you SO MUCH for all your help, in this chapter and otherwise. I don't know what I'd have done without you. **

**ooOoo**

_It takes a lot, to get to the top and a little just to fall off quick, and I think I've seen you here before. Sometimes you fly so high, so fast it makes you sick… you've won the battle and lost the war._

_Own True Way- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I watched as Herb rounded up his 'troops' and got them out onto the ice. About a period and a bit in I saw that something wasn't right. The first two goals you'd think, okay, they can get those back, but really, this was the Soviet Union we were facing here! That's a little too big of a mountain. But two goals, that's all, just two goals…

By the time you get to five goals, six goals, seven, eight… that's not even a hockey game, that's a slaughter. Unfortunately you can't stop a game when the score gets too high, you've just got to keep going. Sad as it was, I couldn't turn away from it. In the end, the score was a dismal 10-3 in favour of the Soviet Union. Just seeing the looks on their faces, my heart broke in two. They looked so dejected, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Horrible, just… I can't even talk about it.

And later I found out how bad it had gotten. Walking by the dressing rooms, I heard raised voices. One I could tell, belonged to Herb Brooks, and the other… I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"That's my net man, you can't do that."

"They just scored ten goals. Right now it's everybody's net…"

"Whoa, wait a second," there was no mistaking the anger that was building in his voice. "I've given you everything I've got and now you're pulling the plug on me?"

"Have you? Given me your very best?" Herb was struggling to control his anger. "Because I know there's a lot more in you… a whole other level that you're not willing to go to…" there was silence for a few moments before a "Ah, what the hell, you don't understand what I'm talking about." I heard the door open, and Herb came barging out, followed by Jimmy.

Jimmy?

"No, you know what I don't understand, Herb? You. No one on this team understands you. What, with your sayings, and your drills, and those stupid psychology tests you had everybody take…"

Herb stopped and turned to stare at him. "Everybody?"

"What, so _that's _what this is about? Because I didn't take your test?" Jimmy was yelling up the stairs to Herb, and all I could do was stare at the two of them. "Fine, you want me to take your test, I'll take your test! Is that what you want?"

"No, I want to see that kid in the net who wouldn't take the test…" Herb snapped back and walked out of sight.

Jimmy, still breathing fire, so to speak, walked back into the dressing room. I was still amazed neither of them had seen me, or maybe they had, but they were too incensed and too focused on each other to notice that anyone was watching them. I thought about maybe knocking on the door, but then I remembered. When was the last time I was allowed in their dressing room? Certainly not in this lifetime. Not while they were in there, probably only to clean up stuff they had missed. After all, I was pretty low on the totem pole… paper pusher is not a glamorous job, and more often than not I was relegated to Herb's paperwork that he didn't have time to deal with, or, let's face it, general cleaning. Hooray, we should all clap… _clap… clap… clap_… okay, that's enough now.

Well, technically, I wasn't considered a paper pusher, I was Herb's 'assistant'. But no matter how you looked at it, I wasn't worth very much.

Ah screw it, I went and knocked on the door regardless.

The mood was sombre when I got in. There were several of the guys refusing to look at each other, and more or less just wanting to pack up their shit and get the hell out of the arena.

"Why do you all look like you're getting out of here with your tail between your legs?" I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

They turned to me with a murderous look in their eyes. If eyes could shoot daggers…

"It's not as though someone died, guys, come on…" I shook my head. "I know you're pissed off, and Herb's pretty damn upset too, but, there's no need to act like this."

"Like what?"

"You all look like someone died," I answered. "Sure, your egos are a little bruised, but come on…"

"Who said anything about ego?" Jack rounded on me. "We just got our asses handed to us ten to three, and we're supposed to be _happy _about it, Viv?"

"I didn't say you had to be happy about it," I told him, pulling myself up to my full height, which I admit, was only about five feet, six inches. "All I'm saying is that we should take this as a learning experience."

"How in hell is this a learning experience?"

"Because we know we have to work our asses off every time we play."

"_We?" _Jack snapped. "I don't see _you_ doing very much!"

"Well pardon me, Mr. Doom and Gloom!" I snapped back. "Who organizes all your paperwork? Who does your damn laundry because you guys are always here? Who cooks your meals? They don't magically appear in front of you!" I shouted. "Seems you've got your head shoved so far up your ass you're tasting shit! Why don't you do the world a favour and _drop dead!"_

I turned around and slammed the door behind me. I was so enraged I pushed past both Craig and Herb, not realizing that they were standing right there. Eventually I settled down at a table with a cup of coffee and another set of paperwork, oh joy…

I saw someone sit in front of me with another thing of coffee, leaning forward so that I could see his hand folded right by the top of my stack of papers.

"So what do you think you're doing?"

"What do I think I'm doing?" I repeated, removing the pen cap from the corner of my mouth. "I think I'm attempting to get this paperwork done."

"Is that really what you're doing?"

"No, what I'm really doing is resisting the urge to kick things."

I saw him nod. "You know you can't speak to my players like that, just like they need to treat you with respect, they deserve the same back."

"I know," my pen continued to scratch across the paper. "That was entirely unintentional, Herb. Jack is my friend, but… I'm stressed. I'm as stressed as they are."

"Not to mention you've been through hell and back these past few weeks."

"Well there's that too," I managed to chuckle. "Look, can I ask?"

"Sure, ask away."

"Why did you ask me if I wanted the job?"

I saw him rub the back of his neck. "Well, I thought you'd like something more than just working a popcorn machine. You seemed reliable and dependable. Hell, I don't know anyone else who work patch up ice at eight in the morning even though they'd had an hour of sleep."

"You know about that?"

"Well after you reamed into OC for stepping on your ice before you were done with it, I knew I needed you as part of the team."

"Why's that?"

"A lot of other people wouldn't have threatened to castrate him with a chisel," Herb answered. "I needed someone with spunk and a willingness to work."

"Speaking of which, I'm not very high up on the totem pole."

"Well we were all there at one point," he answered. "Look, I'm glad you're part of the team, Vivianne. Where else would we find someone as witty as you are?"

"Thanks, Herb," I smiled up at him, tapping my pen against the stack of papers I needed to get through. "I'll have these filed by midnight, if not earlier tonight."

"You're doing a good job, Vivianne," he told me. "Keep your head up, alright?"

"Thanks," I think that was the first time Herb had actually displayed any sort of concern toward any of the team. He could not be their friend, he was their coach, and as such had the role of the 'bad cop'. He was the enforcer.

Once everyone came flooding out of the dressing room, I realized what time it was. It was already dark out, and I had no idea how long I'd been sitting there. In fact, most of the guys didn't even look my way as they passed. Frankly I didn't expect them to. Craig was the last one to walk through the doors.

"Hey Viv, are you doing alright?"

"Yeah," I nodded as I finished packing up my paperwork and throwing my empty coffee cup in the trash. "Why are you still here? Figured you'd be well off by now."

"Figured you might need a ride home, stuck around for a while."

"Everyone else did too?"

"Everyone else got a 'do that again and I'll bury you' from Herb."

"Damn, what's up his ass tonight?"

"Ah, he's just mad," Craig told me. Mad? More like pissed to hell. I did not want to get in his way tonight. He could be nice to me, because if he wanted his paperwork done that's what he'd have to do, but he was not their friend, he'd made that very clear in the beginning. "He'll get over it soon enough. But he did warn them, play like that again and he was not going to be happy."

"I'm staying clear."

"Good plan," he breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he noticed the bundle of paper I had tucked under my arm. "You ready to go?"

"Sure, it's late anyway," I followed Craig outside. Getting into the car, I suddenly felt a lot warmer than before. I'd actually forgotten how cold the arena really was.

We drove in silence back to our pavilion at the Olympic village. As much as I was thrilled to be there, we were segregated by sex, and I missed my boys. It was tough to not have them around as much as I'd have liked, but such in the nature of the beast.

I don't know how this thought came into my head, but it seemed as though I were a distraction. As much as I was part of the team, I was important enough to be there all the time. As my brother used to say 'Stop dicking around, Viv. You're not doing anyone favours by leading them in one direction and then saying stop.'

Was that Gary talking? Or was that me talking?

Time to shit or get off the pot, girl.

"Craig…" I started.

"What's up?"

"Tell Herb I won't be there tomorrow."

"What?" he turned to look at me quickly. "What are you talking about?"

"It's not good for me to be here," I answered. "It's not fair to the boys, it's not fair to Herb, and it's not fair to you."

"Viv, you're an integral part of this team. We need you more than you think…"

"No you don't," I answered. "And I know you don't. I've done everyone's paperwork, but it seems that's all I'm good for."

We pulled into the parking lot, and entered our pavilion. Hurriedly, I grabbed my still packed bags and got out of there as fast as I could. Hailing the first taxi I could find, I looked back through the window to see Craig looking back at me.

I could not, and would not, break down.

I got into the cab, handed the driver twenty dollars, and asked him to take me to the airport.

It was then, and only then, that I allowed a tear to run down my cheek.


	14. Stumbling In

**Brown eyed Girl 75: You're right, you're absolutely right. And here is what happens because of that suggestion. Thank you so much for your help and insight. Much love to you**

**rejazzz: Yes she can, but someone will convince her otherwise. Thank you for the review**

**ooOoo**

_I don't mind confiding, that I make stupid mistakes. Been misled and misguided, and I'm easily led astray. You can dance with disaster, never missing a step. Spinning faster and faster, long after I've already slipped. But in the middle of it all, you always break my fall. In the middle of it all…_

_Stumbling In- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

Arriving back in St. John's, I found my way back to Bonavista nearly three hours later. Knocking on my mother's front door (she had since moved back into our old apartment once Marcie had been able to handle the girls and Charlie in… well, not chaos, but better than it had been), she looked at me with wide eyes.

"Oh honey, whatcha doing here?"

There were several tears running my cheeks. "Can I stay here, mama?" I hadn't called her mama in years.

"Oh, I know what this is…" she put her arm around my shoulder, taking my bag from me. "This is a put a cup of tea on and we'll talk about it." She helped me into the kitchen, sat me down at the table and handed me a box of tissues.

"So what happened? I thought you were having a great time in New York. That's where you were, right?"

"Boston and Minnesota first," I choked, wiping at my tears as much as I could. "We're in New York now."

"We? You should be there too, why are you back here?"

"I guess I missed home too much," I answered, accepting the cup of tea Mom handed to me.

I could tell by her face that she didn't believe me.

"I don't think you missed home," she eyed me over the rim of her tea mug. "I think you got scared."

"What?"

"You got scared because you met someone who might actually be able to find in love with."

"That's bullshit!"

"No, I'll tell _you_ what's bullshit!" she was standing now, her tea mug forgotten. "You left your friends at a time where they needed you most, and now you're sitting in my kitchen with tears in your eyes. Viv, you've got to stop running."

"I'm not running!" I'm sure that sounded childish, but what do you want from me?

"Then why are you here?"

"It was better for him if I left, Mama. You wouldn't understand…"

"Running away from love is _never_ the best way to approach things!" Mom told me. "If you love him, why are you letting him go?"

"Because he's better off without me!" I insisted. "He wouldn't want me even if I wasn't dirt poor!"

"Did he ever _say_ he didn't want you?"

"No, but he never said he wanted me, either."

"Vivianne, listen to yourself," Mom sat down beside me and put her arm around my shoulder. "He never said anything because you didn't give him a chance," she shook my shoulder. "Why are you trying to stop things before they even happen?"

"Because I don't want to lose him, Mom," I buried my head in my hands. "I'm scared I'll lose him if I love him. Just like you lost Daddy."

"Oh sweetie," I felt her kiss my temple. "I didn't lose your Dad just because I loved him. Sealing is a tough and dangerous job. I knew that when I married him, and I loved him regardless. Dad's death was an accident."

I was sobbing now. She was right, I knew she was right, but I was still so unsure. After the way I'd left how did I know anybody on the team wanted to see me again? It felt dangerous, and it was scary to know I was in love with him.

"Tomorrow morning you're going back…"

"What?" I looked up with tears still stinging my eyes.

"I said," Mom started again. "Tomorrow morning you're going back to the airport, getting on that plane, and telling him that you love him!"

"Mom, I can't do that."

"You're not coming back here till I know you've done it, and if I have to I'll strap you into the plane seat myself!"

"Mom…"

"I mean it, Vivianne," she scolded. "You've been dicking around with him for too long. What has it been? 'It's okay to touch me, now it's not, okay now it is?' Back and forth and back and forth like that?"

"No!" I insisted. "I mean, if I did I never meant to."

"Don't give me that crap!" Mom was seriously starting to scare me. I had never heard her get so angry before, or maybe I had, and I just don't remember. "You get on that plane and you tell him the truth, Vivianne. I did not raise you to do this to other people. You need to make this right."

I didn't have the energy to argue with her. All I wanted was to sleep, and not deal with this at all. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to believe it. How could my mother be so smart about this? She hadn't even seen me for months, she didn't know what had been happening…

"I'm your mother, Viv, and I love you very much, but this poor guy deserves better."

"Can I go to bed now, Mom?"

"Not till you understand what I'm trying to say to you here."

"I get it, Mom!" This was getting annoying. "I fucked up, and it's not right to do what I did. I'll go back tomorrow and admit it. Happy?"

"Not really, but I'll take it," she took my tea mug, now stone cold and placed it in the sink. "Go to sleep, and I'll wake you up tomorrow morning."

I said nothing as I dragged my bag toward my old bedroom, and almost as soon as I shut the door I heard my mother shout "You're welcome!"

I didn't sleep well that night. What Mom had said ate at me. Was I really that bad? And if so, why? What reason did I have? I don't think I did it cognitively, I didn't wake up one morning and say "Oh, I'm going to fuck around with Craig Patrick's feelings'. Like I said I didn't want to lose him, and in letting him get close I ran that risk.

It seemed like I hadn't even been asleep fifteen minutes when Mom came and woke me up. Bane drove us to the airport, and waited for Mom while she got me on to the plane. I felt like a little kid again, having to have my Mom convince me to get on a plane. I wouldn't suffer the humiliation of her strapping me into the seat, even if I wouldn't accept that I was going to do what she told me to do till I was on the plane and not able to make a break for it.

Once the plane took off, I unhooked the folding tray, set it down, and rested my elbows on it, holding my head in my hands. All I could see when I looked around was Craig's face, and how broken hearted he was when I left. I saw him hold me as I cried after finding out Gary had died, our dinner date where he said nothing but 'I've got the bill, go" when Michelle called and refused to speak to anyone else but me. I saw his quiet intensity as he worked with the team, I saw his eyes the first time I kissed him… damn it, it hurt! How could I have hurt him like that? What kind of person was I?

"Miss?"

I turned my head to see the flight attendant standing in the aisle with the refreshment tray. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just some water would be great," I answered.

She poured me a cup and handed it to me.

"Thank you," I turned to look out the window, and all I saw was cloud.

Empty, white cloud.


	15. Feel It Turn

**katydid13: Thank you**

**rejazzz: I love Viv's mom, she's great! Thank you for the review**

**An extra special thanks to Brown eyed Girl 75 for helping me with this chapter. I couldn't have done it without you, you were so patient with listening to my ideas and giving me encouragement. Thank you, thank you.**

**ooOoo**

_Fog lifts to reveal potential, for generations prophesied. Our growth to be exponential, our promise, is finally realized._

_Feel It Turn- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

Touching down, my stomach flipped in eighteen different directions. I was in New York again, and that much closer to seeing my boys again. My stomach wasn't just flipping, it was pretzeling itself into knots. If they saw me, what would they say? I had abandoned them, what kind of person was I?

I was a rat, that's what I was. I could just picture every one of them turning their backs on me when I walked back into the room, and I can't say I would blame them. I guess all there was left to do but grit my teeth and bare it.

I fished one of my caps out of my backpack and jammed it on my head. If anyone recognized me, well I was dead meat. If I could just get there and apologize, I'd feel a little better. I know that what I did was wrong, and it wasn't so much about me feeling better as it was about me kissing ass.

"God, it's so fucking cold!" I muttered, sticking my arm out and hailing a taxi. I didn't care how much it would cost me to get to the Olympic Center from the Lake Placid airport, I just had to get there.

And when I did, I could hear the screams and cheers from outside.

_Holy God, they're playing the Soviets today!_ I thought, pulling cab fare out of my pocket, thrusting it into the driver's hand, and made a run for the front doors.

"Sold out, Miss," the door attendant thrust out a hand to stop me.

"No, you don't understand, I'm part of Team USA."

"Then where's your I.D.? And why didn't you check in over three hours ago? That's when you were supposed to be here."

"Well pardon me if I don't control the airlines, buddy. My flight didn't get in till oh, I'd say about half an hour ago! Let me in!"

"Can't do that, Miss, I'm sorry…" he pushed me away. "I would suggest you go and wait outside with everyone else."

"Everyone else is not part of Team USA. Now let me in, you prick! If I'm not in there within 3 minutes Herb Brooks will hand me my ass three times over."

"Well then, you can tell Herb Brooks I said good luck, cause you certainly need it!"

"You know what?" I jabbed a finger into his chest. "I don't need it, because I spent six years on a fucking fishing boat! I could break both your legs and castrate you with a hand tied behind me back! If you ask me, you're the one who needs your ass handed to you."

"In my humble opinion, Miss, I really think you should go and wait with everyone else," the young man standing at the other door answered, trying to smooth this over. He didn't look more than nineteen, if that. His face still carried a light smack of pimples, and he still wore a retainer, which explained why he had a bit of a lisp.

"Well then, since you're so humble, we won't ask your opinion," I snapped, walking back down the stairs and away from them. "Fuck you, you bastard!"

"I should call security on your ass!"

"Isn't that what you are? God, you're fucking thick!" I turned the corner and circled the arena, looking for a way in.

"Come on…" I whispered to myself. "Isn't there some way in?"

I heard the crowd screaming, with each second it became louder and louder. What the hell was happening? Whatever it was, I had to get inside and be part of it.

Then it hit me, where was the zamboni? Yeah, that would work. If I could get through the receiving area to the ice, I'd be able to meet them. I didn't know what was happening quite yet, but it sounded…

No way… did I just hear 'Do you believe in miracles?" Oh my God, they'd done it! They'd actually done it!

And I was stuck outside. Great… I was too tired to actually try anything, though on any other day I'm sure I would have just climbed through the receiving area and climb on to the zamboni, then maybe drive out on to the ice. Any other night I would do that, I would… but, I was just… too tired. I parked myself down in front of the doors, and waited.

Once the crowd had dispersed (it wasn't until at least two in the morning), I was still sitting on the steps. I began to wonder if anyone had mistaken me for a bum. I sure hoped that wasn't the case, because I needed to see my team.

"Miss?" a security guard shown a flashlight in my face. "Miss, are you alright?"

"Yes, perfectly," I held up a hand over my eyes to protect myself. "I just… couldn't get in, and I'm part of the American team."

His brow furrowed.

"Look, I know that's difficult to believe, but I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true," I implored. "Go in there, and ask any of the guys on Team USA if they know the name Vivianne Hallet."

"Miss…"

"Please," I was close to begging now. "I've been sitting out here for nearly seven hours. I'm so cold…"

"Alright, alright," his expression softened. "Listen, I'm going to go in, and find someone who can verify your story. Just sit tight."

He returned a few minutes later with someone walking closely behind. I couldn't quite see who it was, but it seemed as though they were a little apprehensive.

"This young lady claims she's put of the team, sir," the security guard led him to me.

"Does she?" a thick accent pierced the air. When I looked up, I saw his face.

"Hi Doc…" I managed through chattering teeth.

His eyes grew wide. "Vivianne?" he reached down and offered me a hand. "What are you doing out here? Why weren't you in the arena with us?"

"My plane only got in a little while ago, and I didn't have my I.D. and it just got too cold for me to do anything but wait…"

"Oh for God's sakes," he took off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. "Come in, come on. Shame on them for leaving you out here," he muttered under his breath.

He took me inside, his hand firmly on my shoulder, guiding me toward the medic station. He sat me down and handed me a hot pack.

"Just wait here, I'll be right back…" and he returned less than a minute later with a cup of hot water and lemon. "Drink that, Vivianne. I need to let Herb and Craig know you're in here."

"Oh Doc…" I shook my head. I didn't want to deal with Craig, not yet. I had wanted to wait until the excitement was over and people were gone and it would just be me apologizing for being so stupid.

He gave me a 'you know I must' look, and left. I lifted the cup of hot liquid to my lips and struggled to drink it down. Suddenly, I heard rushed footsteps toward the room I currently occupied and the door opened, slamming shut behind me.

I swallowed the sip of hot water and lemon and looked him in the eyes.

"Hi Craig…"


	16. My Apology, Part II

**katydid13: Thank you**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: It's a whole bunch of fluff this chapter! You'll love it. Thank you SO much for all your help with this chapter, I couldn't have done it without you**

**rejazzz: I do it so that you're always anxious to read more! Here is more**

**ooOoo**

_When cruelty comes with blind indifference, my humanity becomes the best defence. But if you consider the alternative, I really didn't have that much to give._

_My Apology- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

His expression didn't shock me at all. It was a mixture of surprise, guilt, and confusion. I wasn't supposed to be back here, let alone in the medic station being treated for exposure. I'm sure that when Doc told them I was here, he'd had to do a double take.

"What are you doing here?"

I put the cup down beside me. "I came to apologize."

"Apologize?"

"This is my fault, Craig. I… I never meant to jerk you around. You don't deserve it."

His brow furrowed.

"After Gary died, and you found me in tears and all that, and what happened after… it, it wasn't fair to you."

"You were dealing with something extremely difficult, Vivianne. Something no one should have to go through on their own. If anyone should apologize, it should be me."

"No it shouldn't, Craig," I insisted again. "I was wrong. It was horrible of me to treat you the way I did."

"I don't understand…"

"It was right in front of you, Craig, and you still didn't see it," I reasoned. "It was like doing the tango. I want you, but I can't, it's okay to touch me, now it's not, and no one deserves to be treated like that."

He said nothing.

"And if that wasn't enough, I left you guys when you needed me the most! It was despicable for me to do so. I wouldn't have come back if I hadn't been threatened within an inch of my life! I was hoping I wouldn't have to deal with you again…. I just couldn't face you…"

"Why?"

"Because I love you," I continued, not really knowing what I'd said. "Look, if I had come back and told you, what would I have said? I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you?"

Craig blinked. "What did you say?"

"I'm not good enough for you?"

"No," he stepped toward me and ran a knuckle down my cheek. "Before that, what did you say?"

My eyes closed at the shiver his touch sent through my body.

"I said I'm in love with you…" I whispered.

His eyes went wide.

"Which I shouldn't have said, I mean there's no possible way there could be anything between us, it just isn't right, we're too different and…."

I was interrupted by his lips pressed against mine. Pulling away, I felt a little flush in the face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," he quipped, grinning at me. "What did you say?"

"Do that again…" I was breathless.

Grinning again, he pressed his lips to mine. Intoxicated with the scent of his aftershave, I nearly forgot that we were standing in a medic station. Granted, it was two in the morning, and hardly anyone else was there, and at that point… I didn't care. His kiss was skilled, soft, and reassuring.

Breaking apart, I looked him square in the eye.

"Craig, I'm so sorry," I tapped him on the lapel. "Can you forgive me?"

He smiled, and kissed me again. "Does that answer your question?"

Tears were forming in the corner of my eyes. It felt wonderful to know that he could forgive me, and still hold me in his arms as though I were the only woman in the world, but it still left me with burning questions. Was I the woman he really wanted? Was I worth potential heartbreak? Was I worthy of him, as a person? Could Craig Patrick really love me, Vivianne Hallett, as a person?

I felt him wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. At this physical contact, I nearly melted into him. Laying my head on his chest as we stood there, alone together, I breathed in his aftershave again. It smelled of mint leaves, a scent I'd loved from when I was a little girl.

I heard the door open, and someone step into the room. I did not see who it was, though they left as quickly and as quietly as they had come. But at this point in time, I did not care.

**ooOoo**

Dr. George Nagobads smiled to himself as he quietly peaking around the corner. There stood none other than Craig Patrick and Vivianne Hallett, nose to nose in conversation. Deciding not to interrupt, he laid the blankets on the table and made his way out again.

"How's she doing, Doc?" Herb asked him. Though he had not seen Vivianne yet that night, he was worried. Upon hearing that she was at the arena, but had been denied access and had had to sit outside in the cold for seven hours, he couldn't help but worry.

Smiling, the only words he knew Herb would be willing to hear were "She's warm enough."

**ooOoo**

Craig and I must have stood there in silence for at least ten minutes. If not for him holding me up I think I would have fallen asleep, I was that tired.

"What do you say we head on out of here?" he asked me.

"Don't you have paperwork to finish?"

He made a popping sound. "Finished it a while ago. I just decided to stick around in case Herb needed some help."

"Since when has Herb Brooks ever needed help?"

"Hey, them's fightin' words," he chuckled. "I might have to carry you out of here over my shoulder for that."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Already you want me in bed, do you?"

He smirked.

"I'm kidding. You're not getting into my pants that easily…"

"I'm only smirking at you because I can, Vivianne," he kissed my cheek.

"Don't wind me up like that…" I shook my head, checking my watch. "It's nearly three in the morning. What the hell are we still doing here?"

"As I said, I think we should head out," Craig offered me his arm. "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

"Someone's couch, more than likely," I answered. This was probably more than true. Every hotel in the city was probably booked solid, and the dorms in the Olympic Village were probably full too. If I was going to sleep anywhere tonight, I'd either be on someone's couch, or someone's floor. Whichever came first, it didn't matter to me.

"My couch is open, if you want it," he told me.

Taking his arm, I looked at him with a confused eye.

"How are you going to manage that ? Aren't the dorms segregated?" Not to mention the dorms were horrible as all could be. They were cramped, cold, and overcrowded.

"Not for those who have their significant others on the coaching staff."

"What?" I shook my head. "Come on, Craig, no one is going to buy that!"

"It's an idea, no one said it was definite."

Smiling, I shook my head again as we walked. "It's better not to risk it. Don't worry about me, I'll be alright. I'll find somewhere to sleep."

And find a place I did. Granted, it wasn't comfortable at all. I slept in the hallway by the entrance to the dormitories on Craig's jacket and underneath a blanket I'd found in a storage closet. There were only a few days before the final against Finland, and Herb did not want distractions.

Perhaps it would be better if the team did not know I was there until the end of the game. If they couldn't see me and no one told me I was actually back in Lake Placid, there was no need for distraction. I fully intended to watch the game, certainly, but I also intended to stay well hidden.

The arena was even more packed the day I hid myself in the crowd. Close enough to the ice to see them, but far enough away so they would not notice me.

The easiest way to do this was for me to wake up earlier than anyone else and make my way to the arena. What I didn't expect was to run into Herb Brooks, already dressed and pacing, when I got there.

I got in the door and was making my way toward the bathroom when Herb just happened to walk by me.

"Vivianne?"

I stopped and turned around. "Hello Herb…"

"What are you doing here this early?" he asked as he shook my hand.

"I don't want the boys distracted but I still want to watch the game. If I'm here, and hidden, they won't see me. I'd rather keep it that way till the end."

He nodded, turned, and began to walk away.

"Good luck!" I called after him.

"We're certainly going to need it," I heard him mumble before he disappeared.


	17. French Perfume

**katydid13: Thank you**

**rejazzz: I'm so glad you loved it. Here is more for you**

**A special thank you to rejazzz for helping me out with the first part of this chapter. It was driving me nuts before she told me where to look for the info :). Much love to you**

**ooOoo**

_The seagulls started lifting like an angry banshee choir, he hit the rocks at fifty clicks and the sky lit up with fire._

_French Perfume- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I buried myself within the crowd, waiting to see what would happen. Herb had to be nervous, why else would he be pacing the hallways? Then again, there was a lot riding on this game. They'd already spit in the face of the Ayatollah Khomeini by defeating the Soviet Union. The whole thing had started over the Soviet Union going into Afghanistan and starting things up, where they was really no need for it. Apparently there were banners during the game proclaiming "Get the puck out of Afghanistan!", clearly meant to disguise a word not appropriate for a family- friendly event. Yeah, it's a whole big mess, still going on, and it's not needed, not at all.

I can't even imagine how worried Herb and Craig must be. If Herb was pacing that much earlier, imagine how he'd be coping right about now. Of course, he'd present a calm, composed front to his players, but in reality he must have been going insane.

I saw the raw determination on their faces as they stepped on to the ice. The Finnish team looked as though they could snap our boys in half, with that big gold lion on their chests. And already, once the puck was dropped, it wasn't long before my boys had fallen behind, 1-0. I could feel my heart squeeze at the thought of them losing, but I know they weren't going to go down without a fight.

And I was right, Steve Christoff, one of the most kind players on the team, tied the game at the beginning of the second period, but it didn't stop there. We were behind just a few minutes later, after Buzzy Schneider decided it would be a good idea to swing his stick like an axe into a Finnish player (what? I don't know his name), and the Finnish scored on that power play. God, what were we doing?

But, you won't believe this, Philly Verchota (aww, my Philly, love 'im), gave us another goal, tying the game at two a piece. There we go, that's what I wanted to see. See? I told you they wouldn't be going down without a fight. Robbie McClanahan actually wanted till he could get a clear shot, and put us up 3-2. The chanting throughout the period, oh, you should have heard it. "We want a goal, we want a goal!"… wow.

And in the final period, everyone, and I do mean everyone, was on their feet. Yes, I was up too, there was no point in hiding myself anymore; they couldn't see me, having developed tunnel vision throughout the game. They were focused on one thing, and one thing only, and that was the Gold medal.

Ten minutes turned to five minutes, and five to zero, and the arena erupted. Sticks were thrown into the crowd, I saw Herb head for the locker room again, and now I had my chance. I made my way down the steps, as frenzied and loud and dangerous as it was, and quietly followed Herb toward said room. Perfect opportunity, if you ask me. I couldn't wait till they all came back and I could surprise them.

"Herb!" I called, running after him.

He didn't hear me, but I'm not surprised. The noise was absolutely deafening. Cheers and screaming and celebrations outside… it was amazing. In fact, it wasn't for at least another hour or so that the team made their way down to the locker room. I hid till they had all gotten in there, save for Craig.

Running to him, I jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"I am so proud of you!" I shouted over the noise. "I saw the whole thing! I can't believe it!"

He set me down and kissed me.

The door opened just as we broke apart.

"Hey! Look who's here!" Philly grabbed my arm and pulled me into the dressing room. "Guys, Viv's back!"

The entire locker room erupted in more cheers as they all clambered over to hug me. I was being swept through a sea of sweat, blue, red and white…

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

**ooOoo**

If you were to ask me what the hell happened after the game and such, I can't really remember. Once the boys let me go, I left them in their dressing room so that they could finish their celebrations. But it's kind of funny, Craig didn't seem to want to stay with them. He followed me out and quickly grabbed my hand.

"What about the team?"

"They're alright, Doc will look in on them after a while."

Shrugging my shoulders, I pulled my coat tighter to keep myself warm as we walked outside. A lot of the celebrations had calmed down, surprisingly, and many of the people had gone home. Stepping outside, I saw the sun was just about to set, the sky streaked with pink and orange, it was absolutely beautiful.

We must have walked for at least two hours, considering the snow had started falling as the night wore on. Looking up at Craig, I saw snow sticking in his hair, a faint smile on his face.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Just at how perfect life seems right now."

"Well I'm sure it would, you just won the gold medal."

"That's not what I mean…" his fingers intertwined with mine.

I gave him a surprised sort of look.

"Vivianne," he turned and touched his forehead to mine.

"Yes Craig?" I was so nervous I could hear my breath catching in my throat.

He breathed deeply, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I love you."

And he silenced me with a kiss.

Suddenly it wasn't so cold out. The faint sound of fireworks going off in the distance pierced the air, the sound of celebration accompanied them.

And I had all the more reason to celebrate, gold medal or not.


	18. Sea of No Cares

**Brown Eyed Girl 75: If everyone loves a kiss scene, then you're going to LOVE this chapter. Thank you so much for your kind words and your late night chats, I really can't thank you enough**

**katydid13: Thank you, enjoy this next one**

**rejazzz: You're going to love it even more now! Thank you for the review**

**ooOoo**

_When you're in love, there's no time and no space, there's a permanent smile on your face. Your friends all complain that you're going insane, but the truth is, they're just afraid_

_Sea of No Cares- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

Craig and I had danced around each other for so long it was difficult to break the habit. In fact, when I woke up next to him the morning after the game, I was startled to find that I was only covered in a sheet, and Craig's arm was draped across me.

I poked Craig in the arm to wake him up.

He groaned and rolled over.

"Come on, wake up!"

"What's up, Viv?" he cleared his throat, flipping over on to his back.

"What happened last night?" I propped myself up on my elbow, facing him.

His hand went to his face. He groaned again.

"Did we…"

"Make love? Yes."

I flopped back on the pillow and turned away from him. An awkward silence had settled between us as I debated drifting back off to sleep.

"Viv…" he hand stroked my shoulder. "Viv, if I've made you uncomfortable…"

I said nothing.

"I'll go…" he made a move to get up.

Before he got very far I reached back and grabbed his forearm.

"Vivianne?"

Smirking, I pulled him down and threw a pillow in his face.

He beat the pillow down to the bed and pinned me underneath him. "Now what was that for?"

"Because I could," I laughed, landing a soft punch to his chest. "Come on, let me up…" he made me happy, disgusting happy, and in all honesty, I couldn't help but laugh again.

"But what if I don't want to?" he answered, placing a kiss to my collarbone, making me shiver.

I braced myself against him and rolled him over. "Believe me, Mr. Patrick, I'd love to stay in bed and make love to you all… day… long…" I kissed his nose. "Unfortunately, you, as the assistant coach to the team that just rocked the world, have press junctions and other things to attend to, and I have a plane to catch."

"What?" he rolled me off of him. "A plane? Where are you going?"

"Back home."

"Why?"

"Because Bane and Marcie need my help, Craig," I got out of bed and found my bra, hastily putting it back on. "Not easy with six kids, and my mom needs a break too."

The look on his face made me melt.

"Oh come on, it's not as though I'm abandoning you, it's only a month," I pulled my shirt back over my head. "Fly on up after you're done here and come and meet Bane and Marcie. They won't bite."

"It's just the thought of leaving you…"

I crawled back on to the bed and kissed him. "Tell you what," I started. "When you get to St. John's, I'll meet you at the airport, we'll rent a room, and you and I can stay there as long as you like…" At that last sentence I dropped my voice to a whisper.

"Sounds like a plan," he smiled, releasing me.

We said goodbye once more before the taxi got there, and before I knew it, I was on my way back home. I'd left him my phone number and my address, so that he could write and call me as much as he pleased.

It was going to be a long month.

**ooOoo**

It looks like I was wrong. With Abbie, Michelle, Linda, Debbie and Kim all determined to help their mom take care of Charlie, it was frustrating for everyone, least of all me. Marcie was beyond stressed, and my mother needing a rest wasn't making it any easier. When I got there Marcie was yelling at one of them, I could hear it through the door, though I couldn't make out who it was she was yelling at.

"Abbie, grab Debbie before she makes a mess!"

"Why do I hafta do it?"

"Because I'm changing Charlie's diaper and Daddy's at work!"

"I don't wanna! It's always me, I don't like it!"

"That's just the way it is!" Marcie shouted back.

"No!"

"Abigail Elizabeth Kearney, if you do not…"

"No!" she screamed. "No! No! No!"

It looked like I'd arrived just in time. "It's alright, Marcie, I'll get her…" I made my way toward Debbie's room and found her sitting on the floor, eating what looked to be some sort of sandwich.

"What'cha eating there, pumpkin?" I sat down beside her.

"Sandwich…"

"What kind of sandwich?" I asked.

"Anana and honey…"

"Banana and honey?" I feigned amazement. "That sounds really good, can I have some?"

"No! My sandwich!" she told me, hugging it to her chest.

"Okay, your sandwich," I agreed. "Does Mummy know you're eating it on the floor?"

Debbie shook her head.

"Are you _supposed _to be eating it on the floor?"

She shook her head again.

"Is that way Mummy's not happy?"

She nodded.

"Come on, darling, I'll get you a plate, and you come and eat your sandwich in the kitchen, okay?"

"Kay…" she agreed.

And that was just my first day back.

**ooOoo**

Now that the month was nearly up, and Craig had called me to tell me that he'd be arriving in St. John's at 10am, I was more than a little excited. Frankly, I'd never been more relieved. I'd been waiting for him to get here, I had so many stories, and so much to tell him.

For example, about three and a half weeks after I'd gotten home, I'd awoken up in the middle of the night and rushed to the bathroom, feeling as though I was going to be sick. And wouldn't you know it, I was. I must have spent a little over an hour in there, before I heard my mother knock on the door, asking if I was alright.

"Yeah, I'm okay…" I'd managed, getting up and flushing the toilet. Opening the door, she held out a cold washcloth.

"Thanks, Mum…" I'd wiped my face and went into the kitchen.

"Should I make some tea?" she asked.

I groaned, turning to face her. "I don't think I should have tea, Mum, something isn't quite right."

"What do you mean, something's not quite right?"

"I was tossing and turning and when I sat up to head to the bathroom I felt sick. Now I'm all sweaty and clammy and my stomach's turning circles…"

"Should we go to the hospital?" she put a hand on my shoulder.

"No…" my hand went to my stomach. "No, I think just some water will help, we'll see how I feel in the morning."

She nodded, and left me to my own devices. She was tired too, I wasn't going to make her stay up with me all night, that's just cruel. I made myself a nice little nest on the couch and parked myself there for the night.

In the morning, I'd already promised Marcie I'd be over to help her get Abbie and Michelle off to school, so, even though I still felt like death warmed over, off I went.

Surprisingly, Charlie was still asleep and Abbie and Michelle went off to school without a fuss. I'm guessing it was because I was there. When someone else besides Mum does something different in the morning, like make a sandwich for their lunches, they'll actually eat it. I did the same thing, so I'm not surprised.

"Marcie," I whispered as we waved to the girls on the school bus. "Marcie, I've got to tell you something."

"What is it?" she asked.

I placed my hands on my stomach.

"Seriously?" she pulled me around and got me back into the house. "Come on, you, into the bathroom."

"What about Charlie? Is he still alright?" I pointed to the bundle wrapped in the sling around Marcie's shoulder.

"Sweetie, he's okay. Look, I have something for you," she pulled something out from under the sink.

"What's this?"

"Pee on it and wait a couple of minutes…" she told me, holding out the box.

"You actually have some of these?" I asked. "Since when?"

"To be honest, sweetie, all Bane has to do is look at me and I end up pregnant. If he could keep his hands to himself I wouldn't have to tell him to get that damn vasectomy," she kissed my cheek. "Charlie needs a diaper change, I'll be back."

"Thanks Marcie," she vacated the bathroom and closed it behind her. Once I'd locked the door, I set toward my task.

Five minutes later, she returned.

"How's it coming, Viv?" she asked.

"Not seasoned yet!" I called. "Still got about two more minutes left."

"Want me to come in there?"

"No, no, it's okay…" I answered perhaps a little too quickly.

"Alright, I'll just wait out here…" she agreed.

And those two minutes had to be the longest two minutes of my life. I had no idea what this would say, nor was I prepared for the result.

And then…

"There it is!" I screamed, throwing open the bathroom door. "Marcie, there it is! _I'm going to have a baby!"_


	19. Going Up

**rejazzz: Hmmm, you'll have to wait, won't you?**

**katydid13: Thank you**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: Oh geez, my bad. Well, we don't know for sure yet, and as you said pregnancy tests weren't that reliable in 1980. When Viv finds out for sure though, well... hmmm... Thank you for the review and the help**

**ooOoo**

_Ah well come gather all around me, there is something you should know. There is no place quite like this place, when we get it on the go. So pile your boots up in the corner, hang your jacket from the door, there's thirty people in the kitchen, and there's always room for more_

_Going Up- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

Unfortunately, I didn't get to see Craig for another month after I found out. Apparently the world was still so interested in what had happened that the team was needed to appear everywhere they went. Unless I was wrong, and something horrible had happened. Wouldn't most of them be back with the teams they'd been scouted for before this had happened? Wouldn't they be finishing up their college degrees and establishing themselves a good career?

Well certainly, if they were the players, but why hadn't I heard from Craig? This was really unusual. Where the hell could he be?

God, I sound so paranoid, don't I? He's a grown man, why should I be worried about what he's doing? For all I knew he was back at work and busy with his own shit… stuff, I should say stuff. Besides, being back home was the best thing for me, I got to see Bane and Marcie and the kids. They were so excited to know that I was home, and that I had come home with all sorts of stories of my 'travels'. Okay, I know I hadn't gone very far, just to Boston and Minnesota and New York, but when you're as young as Abbie and the others are, you might as well have traveled to China.

"Tell us again, Auntie Viv," Abbie begged, settling with me on the couch.

"Tell you what, honey?"

She leaned in to my ear. "Is the change room smelly?"

I chuckled as she leaned back on the couch. "How would I know that?"

"You were _there!_" she pointed out matter-of-factly. Of course, how could I be there and not know if the change room smelled? One of life's greatest mysteries, I suppose.

"Yes I was there, but young ladies aren't allowed in the boy's change rooms," I explained.

"You're not a young lady…" Abbie told me.

"I'm not?"

"No, you're old!" she answered.

"Old?"

"Like Mummy!" she informed me. Oh right, anyone over the age of eleven is practically mummified, according to an eight year old girl.

I pulled her into my lap and ruffled her hair. "You're a little brat!" I poked her until she squealed with laughter, begging me to stop.

"Alright munchkin, let me up, I have to pee!"

She was still laughing as I pushed myself up off the couch and headed for the bathroom. True, I had to pee, but at the same time, I felt like I needed to cry. I needed to see him, I needed to tell him what was going on; he needed to know.

Then again, maybe I'd been too hasty in assuming I was actually pregnant. Throwing up and feeling dizzy had other meanings as well, not necessarily that I was pregnant. And pregnancy tests aren't very reliable. Still, my period is due in a week, and if nothing happens, I'll go to the doctor and see what he has to say.

And if I don't hear from Craig in another week, well then, that's too bad. I'm not going to chase him up and down the East Coast. He's a big boy (in more ways than one), he can do what he wants.

There was a knock at the bathroom door as I finished washing my hands. "Viv, you okay in there?"

Bane was back!

"Uh… yeah, I'll, uh, I'll be right out!" I called. Drying my hands, I opened the door and smiled at him.

"Where did Marcie end up?"

"Grocery shopping," he answered. "And I've got nothing to do today. Abbie asked if we could kick around a soccer ball outside. Do you want to come?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Uh… no, I gotta get going, Bane, but thanks." I walked past him toward the front door. "Unless you need me to stay, of course."

He looked from me to Abbie getting her shoes on, Michelle sitting at the kitchen table with markers and paper, Linda doing a puzzle on the floor and Debbie clawing at his leg, proclaiming 'UP DADDY, UP!"

"I think we're alright," he answered. "You're okay?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay, thanks." Turning toward the kids, I waved goodbye, gave them each a hug, and went out the door.

**ooOoo**

When I got home, my mother greeted me with a hug and a smile.

"There are a couple of messages for you," she told me.

Messages? Who'd be calling me?

She'd written them down on a piece of paper, with a name and a contact number.

_Craig Patrick, 212-555-6358_

Say again? He'd actually called? God, I sound like a love struck school girl. Perhaps he'd figured out that six weeks is longer than a month, who knows with men? If anything, if this whole thing didn't work out, I didn't want him to get his hopes up. To tell him that I _might_ be pregnant now, and then find out that it was a false alarm, I didn't know how he'd take it. In fact, I didn't even know if he _wanted_ kids, we'd just have to wait and see.

I dialled the number and waited for him to pick up.

"Craig Patrick's office, Chris Bennett speaking," I heard.

"Hello, Chris, my name is Vivianne Hallet, I'm just returning a call from Craig. Would he be available?"

"I'm sorry, he's not," Chris answered. "He's out of town for a week or so. Would you like for me to leave a message for him when he gets back?"

"Sure, just tell him I said tag, you're it," I smiled to myself as I hung up. If he was going to play phone tag, well fine, two could play at that game.

Soon after that, there was a knock at the front door. Not sure who would be calling now. Bane had the kids and Marcie was grocery shopping, Mom was at home…

I opened the door to find none other than Craig Patrick standing there.

My mouth dropped open.

"You're here…" I gasped. "You're here, you're actually here!" I jumped into his arms, laughing. "Oh my God, how did you find us?"

"I phoned here when you weren't home and talked to your mother," he answered as he set me down.

"It's a wonder you're still alive, then," I kissed him quickly. "Come in, sit down. Can I get you anything?"

"What are you running around like a chicken with your head cut off for?" he laughed as he stepped inside and took off her coat.

"Oh just keeping busy," I picked up a glass and put it into the cupboard before checking the oven. "Wait a minute, I didn't put anything in the oven!" I slammed it shut. "Blah, what am I doing?"

"Viv," he caught a hold of her shoulders. "Relax, what is going on?"

"Oh it's just…" I shrugged, and then hit him in the arm. "Where the hell have you been the past six weeks?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Never again do I want to have to wait for six weeks to hear from you again, Craig Patrick!" I could feel my face flushing. "Especially not at a time like this, that's just unfair…"

"A time like what?" God, the look on his face…

I sighing, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand.

"I think I'm pregnant…" I confessed.


	20. Beat the Drum

**rejazzz: You bet I did! Craig love in this chapter!**

**katydid13: I had some help with that. They don't know for sure yet... we'll see. Thanks for the review**

**ooOoo**

_Beat the drum, beat the drum, like a heartbeat, lonely and strong. Beat the drum, beat the drum, like a heartbeat, lonely and strong, beat the drum_

_Beat the Drum- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I saw Craig's mouth drop open, and he stumbled backward. He caught himself on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He looked dazed, almost sick.

"Craig?" I loosened his tie and went into the kitchen to find him water. "Are you alright? Say something…"

"I…" his words caught in his throat. "I've got to go."

"What?"

"I need some air…"

And he was gone as shiftly as he'd come.

**ooOoo**

Marcie had returned from grocery store and had gotten the kids back inside. It was starting to rain (what else is new) and I noticed someone running out Vivianne's front door. We live down the road from each other, it wasn't that difficult to see this guy was in distress.

Suddenly I realized who this must be. Craig Patrick, the coach bloke, who Viv had been working with. I'd only ever seen someone bolt from a house that fast for a couple of things. Either she'd threatened to call the cops on him (but he didn't seem the type to hit her), or someone had died (far as I knew Kate wasn't sick and Viv looked okay) or…

Ah ha…

I poked my head in the front door and met Marcie's eyes.

"Marce? You alright for a couple of minutes?"

"Sure, Charlie's in bed and the girls are having a snack. Where you going?"

"Just down the road, won't be long," I answered. "Love you, doll. Be right back."

"Love you too!" I heard her call back.

I followed him down the road and waited till he stopped moving. There was a frantic look in his eyes, he was running his hands through his hair, staring into oblivion.

"You Craig Patrick?" I asked, taking a step toward him.

He turned to look at me. "That's right, and you would be?"

"Bane Kearney," I offered him my hand. "I was Gary's best friend," he looked confused. "You know, Viv's brother."

He shook my hand and nodded. I shoved my hands into my jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Sticking it in my mouth and lighting it, I took a drag and leaned against the railing that Craig had stopped at. "You wanna tell me what happened in there?"

He shook his head, obviously still in shock. "Not worth worrying about."

I took another drag and flicked off the end. "She tell you she thinks she's pregnant?"

I had startled him, I could tell. "Did she tell you?"

I shook my head. "My wife's been through six. I knows it when I see it." I reached into my pocket and withdrew another cigarette, offered it to him.

He declined, said he didn't smoke. "How'd you do it?"

"She don't even know if she's actually knocked up, why are you so worried?"

"I'm not ready…"

"How old are you?"

"I'm thirty four," he answered.

I nearly knocked him in the back of the head. "Blimey, and you're telling me you're just getting your rocks off now?" I stubbed my cancer stick into the ground. "Fuck me, man, you're worse off now then I was when me wife told me she was pregnant the first time."

"When was that?"

"I was seventeen," I answered him. "Look, you're scared, but no use getting yerself worked up if it's nothin' at all," I leaned over the railing and spit. "Chances are she's just as scared. Don't be like her old man and knock yerself off cause you can't handle a baby."

"Is that what happened?"

"I dunno, don't think so, rumour was that he slipped off that flow and told em not to try to rescue him. Didn't want his kids to think he was a fucked up drunk," I told him. "But I think it was an accident. She ever tell you bout the time she knocked a kid in the dirt for callin' her mom a floozy?"

"I don't think so," Craig answered.

"She don't take lightly to things like that." I said, though I'm sure he knew that. "Look, she's had a rough enough time as it is. Be good to her, yeah?"

"Of course," he told me. "Look, Bane, I know I must've scared her, but I'm not leaving."

"Where you from, anyway?"

"I work in New York."

"Ah," I nodded. "How you two gonna work this out?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, if you don't know, go back and talk to her, you dolt!" I slapped him in the arm.

He nodded, a little shaken. Almost as soon as I said it, he started walking back toward Viv's house, and if I'd done my job right, they'd be able to talk about this like responsible adults.

Ha, good luck, you bugger.

**ooOoo**

As elated as I was that Craig had come back, I wanted to hit him. Never had I expected him to walk out like that upon hearing the news. I don't know if I am actually pregnant, all I said was that I _think_ I'm pregnant.

And once he got back, I relegated him to the couch. I actually refused to talk to him till the next morning. I went into the kitchen and searched the cupboards for something to throw into the frying pan.

Ah ha, potatoes! And in the fridge… yay, Mom bought eggs. Apparently her sewing has brought in more money since she was on her own now. I know that sounds horrible but it's true.

As I turned on the stove and levelled my hand over the pan, I felt Craig kiss my bare shoulder.

I jumped as a shiver of electricity went through my body. Pulling away, I'm sure he saw me tense.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't do that," I answered, emphasizing each word.

"What?"

"_That!"_ I answered. "Not while I'm in front of the stove!"

"Viv, what's going on?" he ran his hands down my arms.

"_Hands off!"_ I nearly shouted.

He stepped back, his hands up in surrender. "I don't understand, Viv, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" I hissed, slamming the spatula down on the counter and turning to face him so fast my hair flipped out to the side. "Do you love me?"

"What?"

"Do you love me, Craig Patrick?"

"Where is this coming from, of course I do…"

"As a person?" I walked toward him. "Do you love me as a person?"

"Of course…"

"Then why the hell did it take you six weeks to pick up the damn phone, book a plane ticket, and get your ass up here like you promised me you would?"

"I…"

"And as soon as I say I might be pregnant, you walk out!" I continued. "What if I actually am pregnant? What are you going to do then? Are you going to walk out and tell me I'm not good enough for you?"

"Never!"

"Because I can't…" I felt my lip tremble. "I can't do it on my own, I can't…" my arms were shaking so badly I couldn't hold on to the counter. "I can't…"

The next thing I knew I was on my knees with tears falling, forming little puddles on the floor. I heard footsteps coming from my mother's bedroom, moving to console me.

"No!" I cried, throwing her hands off me. "No, don't touch me!" I curled into a ball against the oven door, the eggs and potatoes forgotten. Luckily she turned off the stove before things got out of hand. "Go away, just leave me be!"

"I can't leave you be, Viv," it was Craig's voice. He sat down beside me and put his arms around my shoulders. "Not when you're like this, I can't leave you be…"

I beat his chest once with my fist before gripping on to his shirt and breaking down completely.

My tears echoed throughout the apartment as Craig held me.

"Don't do this to me again, I love you too much…" I hiccupped. "I love you too much, never again…"

He kissed my temple. "I love you too, Viv, and I'm sorry."

"I love you…" I repeated. "I love you…"


	21. Clearest Indication

**rejazzz: Don't knock him out, you'll love him here! Thanks for the review**

**katydid13: Thank you**

**An extra special thank you to Brown eyed Girl 75 and rejazzz for helping me with this chapter. Lots and lots of love to you. **

**ooOoo**

_Times like these, it's hard to see, with any kind of clarity. What's the point of wondering anymore? So much I just can't figure out, I'd love to know without a doubt, for sure, for sure…_

_Clearest Indication- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

_April 19th, 1980_

Well, this was it. Over the past few days I'd really been feeling off. So, I made an appointment with Dr. Firth, who'd been my doctor for years, since I was about… twelve I think. She was a small, older woman, but either way she was a wonderful doctor, and never made me feel awkward.

When I called her and said I wanted an appointment, it didn't take long for her to clear some room. That was about a week or so ago. Even with so many people moving out of the province, she still kept a business. What town doesn't need a doctor?

"Craig?" I asked that morning.

"Hmm?" he took a swig of coffee.

"You ready for today?"

"What's today?"

"What do you mean, what's today?" I downed my glass of orange juice and put the glass in the sink. "Come on, I'm getting blood work done."

"Blood work for what?"

My eyes widened. "Are you that stupid?" I walked over to him and cupped his cheeks. I pressed my forehead to his. "I am having blood work done to see _if I am pregnant!_" I let go and turned away from him to go back into the kitchen. "God, you're such a dolt!"

"Alright, sorry, I'd forgotten," he confessed.

"Least you admit it," I suddenly coughed violently as Craig jumped up and had me lean over the sink. This had already happened once before, and we'd ended up with a puddle of vomit all over the floor. Once it stopped, he smoothed my hair back. "I feel horrible."

"Think you should go back to bed?"

"No," I slowly pushed myself up and stood leaning against him. Groaning, I let go and walked toward the couch. "I'll be okay. Nerves, I guess."

"What are you nervous about?"

"I just want to know if I'm actually pregnant. I don't even know if we can make this work! What are we going to do? My God, I'm not ready for this!"

"Viv, Viv, hold on," he brought me back into the living room and sat me down on the couch. Putting an arm around my shoulder, he kissed my temple. "Look, you're getting so worked up before we even know anything."

"I just don't want to screw it up…"

"What's there to screw up?" he asked.

"Everything!"

"Just relax," he whispered. "I'll be right there with you."

"Craig, you don't understand!"

"What don't I understand?"

"I'm scared!"

"I am too," he assured me. "It's just blood work and an ultrasound. It's nothing… it's the next seven months that suck…"

"Not helping!"

"_Viv!"_ he said loudly. "Relax, it's not as though you're dying. You're getting all worked up over nothing." He went into the kitchen and brought me a glass of water. "We'll go to the doctor, get these tests done, and we'll know in another two days."

I took a couple of deep breaths and began to relax. "I'm sorry, Craig, I didn't mean to spook you like that."

"Alright…" he went to the closet and got his coat out.

"Where are you going?"

"Our appointment's in a half hour," he answered. "And since neither of us have a car, doesn't it make sense to walk?"

"Sure, but, it takes less than five minutes to get there."

"Doesn't hurt…"

"No, you're right, let's go…" I got up off the couch and within the next five minutes we were out the door.

We walked into the office and waited. There were kids with the sniffles hanging on to their mother's legs like they were dying, an older man wrapped in three sweaters yet still shivering, and then there was Craig and I… to these people I'm sure we looked pretty normal.

"Vivianne Hallet?" I followed the receptionist into the ultrasound room. The thing was huge! Right beside it, there was a bench that I presumed I was supposed to lie down on, and a bathroom to the left.

"No, you're not sitting on that yet. Come on…" a nurse handed me a clear plastic cup.

"You want me to pee in it?"

"Exactly," she answered. "A urine test can help detect pregnancy hormones."

"No blood work?"

"Not yet," she told me. "We don't usually do that until after we've done everything else."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little nervous…"

"First baby?"

"Yeah," I told her. "Actually I'm really, really nervous. I don't even know if I'm actually pregnant, that's why I'm here…"

She put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Don't you worry, we'll take good care of you."

I nodded and went into the bathroom. Two minutes later I had enough of a sample to give back. When she took it, I was just really eager to know for sure at this point. Was I, or was I not pregnant? I wanted to be, but at the same time I was scared.

She came back with the ultrasound technician, and at that point, I knew. The only problem was, the tech was one of the girls from elementary school; she used to throw dirt at me for not acting like a 'normal' kid. But seeing her as an ultrasound technician, I had to admit, she'd grown up. We both had.

"Hello, Vivianne," she smiled at me. "It's good to see you again."

"You too, Marie," I answered. She grabbed the tube of jelly and poured a bit on my stomach. "When did you start here?"

"About a year or so ago," she answered, running the scanner over the jelly and searching for something. "Did your husband not come with you?"

"Oh, he's not my husband," I answered.

"Boyfriend?"

"Significant other," I quipped. Best way to put it. Craig Patrick was my significant other.

"Do you want him in here?" she continued running the scanner over my stomach. There had to be _something _in there, otherwise she wouldn't be looking so hard.

"Um…" I thought for a minute. "Yeah, I think he'd like to see this."

And sure enough, he was almost shaking when he sat down in the chair beside the table and held my hand.

"Do you see anything yet, Marie?"

"Not yet, seems this little guy's really hiding…" she chuckled, running the scanner over my stomach a few more times. "Ah ha, there you are!"

"Huh?" I asked, turning my head toward the monitor once again.

"Do you see that little thing there that looks like a shrimp?" she pointed to the monitor and smiled. "Right there, that's your baby…"

"Oh my God," I heard Craig whisper.

Marie handed me a towel and helped me wipe the jelly off. "I'll get you some prints so you can take them home. Congratulations Mom and Dad…"

Then it hit me. Mom and Dad…

We were having a baby!


	22. Buying Time

**rejazzz: Thank you. Here's more**

**katydid13: I know they weren't routine but for the sake of the story moving forward, this hospital has one. Hope you're still enjoying. Thank you for the review**

**ooOoo**

_For years and years you can drift along, and write another verse to an endless song. Wait one more day till the time is right, hoping that you'll both see the light… you won't see the light_

_Buying Time- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

I know you'll find this hard to believe, but as much as I loved Craig, I didn't think I had it in me to move in with him quite yet. In fact, when he went back to New York, wouldn't you know it, I didn't go. I stayed behind in Bonavista. He was in talks with the New York Rangers for the upcoming season as their General Manager, who was I to get in his way? Who was I to mess up his life?

Five months into my pregnancy, I wanted nothing more than for Craig to come back. For three main reasons. One, I was lonely. Two, I hadn't had any sex in five months. And three, I was irritated beyond belief. I was spending almost every day with Marcie and the kids, and every one of them seemed to babble on and on about nothing in particular and think it was the most interesting thing they'd ever said. If I couldn't handle them at ages five, four, two, and four months (the ones who were home during the day), how was I going to handle my own baby?

"Auntie Viv?" Debbie tugged on my pant leg one day as I sat on the couch with a couple of balls of yarn and knitting needles in my lap. I'd been commissioned to knit a few sweaters for some of the less fortunate kids at the school. I don't mind doing it, every child deserves a warm sweater, especially during the cold winter months.

"Yes sweetheart?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Debbie," I answered.

She kissed my cheek, and just as she did, nausea swept over me. Putting down my knitting, I bolted for the bathroom and nearly slammed the door behind me. I ended up hunched over the toilet for a good couple of minutes, but nothing came.

Was that normal?

God Craig, why aren't you here?

I know, I know. I should've gone with him when I had the chance, but I didn't, and now I'm paying for it. I want him to be here. I want him to be here when I have the baby, his son.

Okay, I don't quite know if it's a boy, but Mom reckons it is. Same with Marcie. The consensus is that if I'm carrying forward, it must be a boy, because Marcie says she carried forward with Charlie, and my Mom says it was the same with Gary. I have just a little bump right now, so I'm not sure yet.

I emerged from the bathroom with my hand on my stomach. Stating that I needed to go home, I put on my coat and walked back, to find my mother waiting for me in the doorway. She put her arm around my shoulder and led me inside.

"What's the matter, love?"

I sat down on the couch and put my head in my hands. "I can't do it!"

"You can't do what?"

"I can't have this baby, Mom!" I wailed.

"Well it's a little late for that, isn't it?" she answered. "If you didn't want a baby ye shouldn't have had sex."

"It just happened, Mom. It's not as though we were planning this…"

"That's what condoms are for," she pointed out. "You know how to use one. Why didn't you?"

"Excuse me for riding on a high and jumping into bed!"

"That's no excuse!" she told me. "You're my daughter, Vivianne, and I love you very very much, but I _will not_ stand for this type of behaviour," she was turning a slight shade of red. "I won't have you abandon this child simply because you might be raising him on your own."

"For the last time, Mother, I am _not_ going to be raising him on my own!" I stood up and pulled my shirt down to make sure I was covered. "And another thing, why do you keep calling the baby 'him'? I don't know if it's a boy, and neither do you!"

"We can't very well call him 'it'!"

"And I agree with you, Mom, but why not just say 'Pumpkin'?" I asked. Much better than saying 'it' and using something different from 'shrimp', because he was too big to be called a shrimp anymore. Did I just call the baby 'him'? Stop it!

"Fine, Pumpkin it is," she consented. "What about the father?"

"He has a name, Mom, and his name is Craig."

"Where is he now?"

"In New York, I told you that," I answered. "He went back for work. Signing a deal to be GM for the New York Rangers. Didn't need me down there, did he?"

"You're having his baby, of course he needs you…"

"No he doesn't," I repeated.

"Yes he does!" she gripped my forearms and nearly shook me. "Don't be so stubborn, Viv. You love him, you've told me that many times before. Granted, you're pregnant, it's dangerous for you to fly, but if you weren't, I'd stick you on that plane myself!"

"I'm not a child!"

"Then stop acting like one!" she was very close to losing it. Whatever 'it' was. "You should've gone with him to New York. You'd have a very happy and productive life there. I don't understand why you're so hesitant…"

I shook my head and threw up my hands. "Forget it, I'm done arguing with you. I'm going for a walk…"

I quickly threw on my jacket and opened the front door, slamming it shut before she could say another word.

Once I'd walked a fair amount, I stopped to find someone standing outside their car, just waiting, leaning against the driver's side door.

Almost frozen in place, I watched wide eyed and mouth gaping as he started toward me. He had a huge smile on his face, his pace quickening as he came nearer.

I almost jumped into his arms as he embraced me tightly.

"You're here…" I breathed against his shoulder. "You're actually here…"

"I know," he whispered in my ear. "I know."

"It's been almost three months," I set myself down. "Look, put your hand here…"

I grabbed said hand and led it inside my jacket, laying it to rest on my belly.

"Feel that?" I moved his hand across my stomach. "Feel that little bump? That's our baby…"

"That's our baby in there?" he asked, almost in awe.

"That's our baby," I repeated. "And it's been too long since I've been kissed."

Grinning, he obliged.

"That's what I thought," I chuckled. "So then, Craig, you need to tell me about this job of yours."

"Better still," he opened the passenger side door. "Why don't I show you?"

My mouth dropped open. Go to New York now? Everything for the baby was here… the hospital, my doctor, my mother (who'd been an enormous support), Bane and Marcie… everything I knew was here. Of course, that was me, wasn't it? Go on off at any time and try something new. Let's face it, if I hadn't taken a risk I never would've met Craig.

"I haven't packed…" I protested.

"Come on, where's your sense of adventure?" he smiled. That crooked smile of his, I couldn't resist, and he knew that.

"I can't afford anything in New York."

"But that's the beauty of it," he answered. "I've got more than enough."

"That's not fair to you though."

"I have no problem with you wanting to work, Viv," he assured me, understanding my meaning. "But until that baby is born, you really should take it easy."

"And a move to New York is less strenuous?"

"I know what you mean, but you don't have to worry. I've got a nice three bedroom in Brooklyn."

I blinked. "Say what?" I couldn't believe it. Brooklyn was expensive; less so than Manhattan, I knew that, but how could we afford it?

"Brooklyn. Three bedrooms. You and me…" Good, at that moment it was probably a good idea to speak to me in sentences that contained no more than two words, because that's all that would get through.

"What's the third bedroom for?"

"It's meant to be a playroom, in a manner of speaking," he answered. "But you never know, could be a guest bedroom."

I shook my head in shock. "Holy shit!" I muttered under my breath.

"Come with me…" he asked. "Please, Viv, come with me…"

I was still so shocked I only said one word.

"Yes…"


	23. Love

**Brown eyed Girl 75: Oh yes she is moving on with Craig, it's so heartwarming. Five months without him, I don't know how she did it, but she did. I don't think I could have. **

**katydid13: Thank you, I'm sure you'll really like this one**

**rejazzz: You'll have this one even more! Thank you for reviewing**

**ooOoo**

_When we're together, why does something always start? Are we both better off, when we are apart? Some days you hate me, I can see it in your eyes. It seems like lately, you can't wait to criticize me. But it's alright, we don't have to fight this night. It's alright, we don't have to fight, tonight._

_Love- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

October 20th, 1980

You didn't think that once I moved to New York with Craig, it'd be all sunshine and roses, did you? No, no, we had our fair share of problems. In fact, from the moment he'd started spending a lot of time at work and I'd be left alone, I grew increasingly hostile. You could call it hormones (I _was_ nearing my ninth month by this point) Wait a minute, we found out I was pregnant in April, and I had to be at least ten weeks so the baby was big enough to see on the ultrasound. I moved with Craig to New York in June when I was five/six months, and it's October now, yeah, I only have a few more weeks to go. Anyway, I guess you could call it frustration, you could call it whatever you wanted, I was nearly barmy!

He came in the door, hung his coat up, and came into the kitchen. As soon as he was there, I drove the knife into the carrot I was cutting so furiously it left a dent in the cutting board.

"Easy there, Viv. Don't hurt yourself."

"You know what, fuck you!"

"What did I do this time?"

"You left your dirty socks and underwear on the floor this morning!" I slammed the knife down on the counter. "As if I didn't have enough to do today, you can't take two minutes out of your day to take your shit downstairs to the laundry basket?"

"Viv, I was running late this morning…"

"That's no excuse. I'll have you know I had to roll off the bed to pick them up thanks to your baby! I'm so fat I can't even bend down!"

"You're not fat…" he turned me around to look at me.

"Don't touch me!" I screeched.

"Viv, you're not fat. I don't see why you would think so…"

"What's this then?" I put my hands on my belly. "How could you say I'm not fat?"

"There's a big difference between fat and pregnant, my dear. And you are pregnant, not fat…"

I groaned in frustration. How could he always know the right thing to say when I just wanted to be mad and rage and scream at him? It was _his _sperm that got me into this mess!

"I don't even care anymore! I just want this over with, and let me tell you, I _will not _be doing this again!"

"I'm happy with just one, Viv."

"Do you have _any _idea how much having this _thing _inside your body hurts? I look ugly, I'm uncomfortable, I hate how I look! Next time _you_ can be the one to carry the kid!"

"That's physically impossible, Viv."

"I don't care if it's physically impossible!" Suddenly I left something warm rush down my leg. "Oh, is there no dignity left? I think I just weed myself!"

He stopped dead in his tracks. "What?"

"Craig…."

"We're heading to the hospital, Viv, right now! This is dangerous!"

"Dangerous?"

"You aren't due for another two weeks, Viv. We can't have something happening to our baby!"

"Alright, relax," she took a deep breath. "I'll go get in the car, my bag is upstairs."

"You've already packed?"

"Last night in fact. I phoned my Mom, she advised me to pack an overnight bag. I was early, my brother was born early, it only makes sense that something like this would happen. It's nothing to worry about. Labour's only just starting. God, am I actually saying this? Never mind, just go upstairs and get it."

He did as I said, and five minutes later we were on the road.

It was all I could do to hold myself in the passenger seat. Craig was driving like a maniac, changing lanes again and again, and going well over the speed limit.

"For God's sake, slow down!" I shouted, "the contractions are about 10 minutes apart, we're fine!"

He turned his head quickly to look at her reclining. "What do you mean we're fine?"

"You got to do the fun part and now I do the work!" I shouted again. "Slow down, I'm not going to be having the baby in the ca… car! Almost said cat there…" I braced myself through the contraction just starting. "Okay… just breathe. That's all, just breathe…"

"Should I pull over?"

"No, because if you do I'll walk! Just shut up and drive normally, for God's sake!"

"Alright, alright…" he was shaking the rest of the trip there. I think I'd spooked him, but you'd think he'd know better than to not listen to me while I'm in labour. I'm a scary bitch when I'm in pain.

We arrived and were given a private room. Yes, I know, that's a stretch, but Craig insisted. He didn't care that it'd be more expensive (though how he could afford it I don't know), but I wasn't going to ask him.

Three hours later, my new doctor, Dr. Pullman, examined me, and told me I'd be having the baby in about an hour. The contractions were closer and closer, but I was still comfortable enough. In fact, I was kind of bored.

To alleviate the boredom, Craig and I started on a word search together. We'd gotten as far as the third row before the contractions got to be too much. No epidural, didn't want one. I know, I know, I'm nuts, but don't judge me! I don't like needles! And the thought of getting one in the back… nope, not happening.

Craig sat holding my hand, just waiting. And when the words "This is almost dull" escaped his mouth, I squeezed his fingers together.

"Dull?" I screamed. "Dull? Listen here, Bucko! You are never allowed to touch me again! You have no idea how much this _hurts,_ so don't you tell me this is dull if…" I screamed as another contraction ripped through my lower abdomen. "I'm throwing you out of here!"

"Why?"

"You're annoying me!" I shouted. "Out!"

"Let go of my hand, then!"

I released him and out he went. God, I want this thing out of me! I am never going to do this again, no matter how much I'll love this little thing. No, I don't know if it's a boy or a girl, we didn't want to know. For now, this baby is a thing! Not Pumpkin, not a shrimp, a _thing!_ I'm in so much pain I don't care what comes out of my mouth!

When will this be over?!

Okay, that does it, I'm pushing the call button! I feel as though I'm going to be sick… I don't care if I puke, just tell me something… I want to know if I'll be having this baby now or the next Ice Age! Just check me, please! Can I push?

I repeated said questions to Dr. Pullman when he came in a few minutes later.

"Look at that, Viv. Ten centimetres, this baby will be here in an hour or so…"

I laid back against my pillow. Thank God! I just want this to be done.

"Do you want Craig in here?"

"No!" I answered, perhaps a little too quickly. "No! He can stay out there!"

"There's no one but the medical team in here then…"

"That's fine!" I told him. "I'd rather not lose what's left of my dignity."

"Whatever you want, Viv. I'm not one to argue with you…"

"I mean, you spend almost every day with women in labour. I don't care if you're looking down there, that's your job! My _partner _on the other hand, he's done enough damage…" Another contraction. Damn it, why hadn't I taken that fucking epidural!

Dr. Pullman examined me again, and I saw his eyes grow wide. "I lied, this baby's coming right now…"

"What?"

"Viv, the head is crowning now. That last contraction, that was the head crowning," Dr. Pullman explained. Good Lord, he was very calm about it. He sat down on a chair that one of the nurses pushed toward him.

"Next contraction, Viv, the nurses are going to hold your legs, and I want you to push, do you understand? Ten seconds…"

I nodded furiously.

Not even two minutes later, that contraction ripped through me. "Oh my God, why did I agree to this?" I screamed.

"Seven, eight, nine, ten! Relax…" Dr. Pullman told me. "He's coming quickly, Vivianne. Two more pushes should be enough. Next contraction, try again. Ten seconds again, okay?"

"Okay," I couldn't help shouting. Throughout that next contraction, I felt Dr. Pullman rotate the baby, and the shoulders were out. Thank God… almost done.

"Once more, and you're done!"

I obeyed, all the while screaming. I heard Dr. Pullman tell me to stop, and handed the baby off to the nearest nurse. She cleared the baby's mouth and throat, and then came a firm slap to the behind.

Soon, the baby was screaming and turning pink.

I laid back exhausted once I'd passed the placenta. Most disgusting thing I'd ever seen, I almost couldn't believe that had been growing inside of me and my baby had been living off of that. The nurse who'd taken the baby came back smiling a few minutes later, though I couldn't think of what had taken her so long.

"Congratulations, Mom, it's a boy," she whispered, giving me my son, all clean and wrapped up in a blanket and a little knit cap. God, he looked like a little angel.

I cradled him close to my chest. "Hi there, baby. I'm your mommy. Do you know me? I know you..."

I was moved to the recovery rooms cradling him in my arms. Soon, though, I knew he'd been going to the nursery, so I could recover, and Craig would be able to sit with me. He wasn't going to see the baby yet, though. I wasn't going to name him till Craig had seen him.

We did see him a few hours later, squirming and yawning. Yeah, buddy, I know, you're sleepy, I'm sleepy too. Looking at him, Craig's eyes were filling with tears.

"He's beautiful…" he whispered as I placed a hand on his back. "Viv, he's so beautiful…"

"I know…" I handed him a tissue. "As beautiful as he is, he needs a name. We can't take him home as Baby Boy Patrick…"

He looked at me and smiled. "What about the name Ryan?"

I nodded. "Bryce?"

"Ryan Bryce Patrick?" he repeated. Something in his eyes said yes.

"Welcome home, Ryan…" I whispered to him through the glass.


	24. Haven't Seen You in a Long Time

**rejazzz: Wouldn't you do the same thing if you were in that much pain? I agree, YAY for babies. Guess who's here this chapter?**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: They're okay, it's someone else that needs their help. I like the name Ryan too, it just fit. Hope you enjoy this chapter**

**ooOoo**

_I haven't seen you in a long time, since I've been gone. It always seemed to be the wrong time, it's the same old song. Looks like we'll never be together, our whole life through. There might be changes in the weather, but not for me and you._

_Haven't Seen You in a Long Time- Great Big Sea_

_**ooOoo**_

_October 22__nd__, 1981_

Craig, Ryan, and I had adjusted quite well to our life in New York. Craig was General Manager of the New York Rangers, and I was working… well alright, I wasn't working. I wanted to put it off for a while, at least until Ryan starts kindergarten. Yeah yeah yeah, I probably don't need to work if Craig's pulling in the money he is with the Rangers… but… ah bullocks, lost my train of thought.

Anyway, as I was saying, we had adjusted quite well. Ryan was now almost taking his first steps, and babbling certain words. I heard 'Mama' 'Dada' 'Na Da Na Da Na Da' and even… wait for it… 'Shoooo'. Can't really place what the 'shooooo' is, because he doesn't really know what a sock or a shoe is. He hates wearing socks and shoes. Nothing better to him then to run through the front yard in bare feet.

"Ryan, come back here!" I called as he crawled around the front yard in, you guessed it, bare feet.

"Mama!" he screeched.

"I see you, buddy, what's going on?"

"Come, come, come…" he insisted.

I started walking toward him. "Where do you want me to go?"

"Come…" he insisted again, not moving from his spot in the leaves. He'd sat himself down there and had gotten bored fairly quickly. In the last couple of minutes he's plunked his hands on the ground and attempted to push himself up. So far he'd gotten as far as pushing his bum up in the air and tottering there for a bit, and then falling back down.

"Mama!" he called again, holding out his hand. "Mama!"

"Ohh…" I smiled, getting down on my knees in front of him. "You gonna try walking, buddy?"

"Mama!" he repeated. "Mama!"

"Alright, we'll try," I gently took his hand and he got to his feet. Shaky and wobbly, he defiantly let go of my hand and attempted a step on his own. Didn't quite work, he sent himself tumbling into the pile of leaves again.

There were tears in his eyes.

"Try again?" I asked.

"No!" he folded his arms and pouted.

"Oh now, why are we pouting?" I reached to pick him up.

"No!" he screeched again. He had decided that he was not going to move.

"Ryan, come on," I admonished. "Mama's tired. Mama likes that you want to try, but it's inside playtime now."

"No!"

"You stubborn little…" I muttered under my breath. "Ah, I can't begrudge you that. You got that from me."

Craig came home less than five minutes after this all happened. But the thing was, he wasn't alone. There are someone sitting in the front passenger seat, but I couldn't see who it was. His hair was mused, covering his eyes. I quickly scanned the interior of the car while picking Ryan up and setting him on my hip. There was a duffel bag in the back seat, which didn't strike me as odd, but still I had to wonder…

This person got out of the car and turned briefly to look at me.

Mark Wells!

But what had happened to him? Last I'd heard he'd gone back to college and was going to finish up his degree. What would he be doing here in New York if he was enrolled in college in Minnesota? There weren't any holidays going on right now, or anytime soon. Christmas was over two months away. What the hell was going on? He looked positively haggard, and I knew it wasn't from the plane ride.

Craig set Mark's bag on the lawn and took Ryan from my arms silently. He walked toward the house with Ryan as I enveloped Mark in a tight hug.

"Oh Mark," I whispered to him. "What happened to you?"

It was then he broke down. He was holding on to me as though I was the only thing helping him stand. I felt the tears coming and could hear the anguish in his voice. He was rendered speechless with emotion.

"Come on, come in," I patted his back. We walked arm in arm together into the house, Ryan crawling toward us as I helped Mark to the living room couch.

"Mama?" he asked, sensing the tension in the room.

"Yes baby?"

He signalled that he wanted me to pick him up. I complied and asked what he was looking for. I don't think he quite understood what was happening, but he knew something wasn't right.

He kissed my cheek.

"Thank you, nice kisses," I smiled and ran my finger down his cheek. "We'll go see Daddy in the kitchen and you stay there, okay?"

He looked at me blankly.

"Yeah, that doesn't make much sense to you, does it?" I brought him back into the kitchen and set him down on the floor. "Craig, I want to find out what happened here, so, can you keep Ryan busy for a couple of minutes?"

"Sure, but I don't even know what happened. Good luck…"

I winked, grabbing the tissue box and two mugs of tea. Going back into the living room, Mark had slumped forward holding his head in his hands.

When I sat down beside him, he didn't move. I pulled a tissue from the box and offered it to him.

"Thanks," he muttered, taking the tissue and wiping his eyes.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

He sniffed, wiping his nose with the same tissue. "I don't know where to start, Viv. It's all so fucked up…"

"Oi, language!" I gently scolded. "There's a baby in the house. His mind is like a sponge. Be careful…" I kissed his temple. "Starting at the beginning is a good place to start. It's where all stories start."

He snorted in laughter. "This from the woman who had the filthiest mouth on the team."

"Yeah well, since then, how many of you boys have popped babies out?"

He took a deep breath.

"Exactly…" I put my arm around his shoulder. "Now, what's the story?"

He exhaled sharply. There was something behind his eyes that made me wonder. Then again, I'd been wondering since he'd stepped foot in the house. His sullen expression and the fact that he looked like he hadn't slept in days… I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Do you remember how I was heading back to Minnesota to finish up my degree?"

I nodded.

"I've dropped out."

"Why?" I asked.

"I can't bear it anymore, it's too much…"

"We all have those times, Mark," I answered. "But we can't run from hard times."

"_You_ did."

"You're right, I did, and I learned from them."

"What did you learn?"

"Don't turn this over on me, Mark," I answered. "I made mistakes, I ran away from hard times, I ran away from what I was feeling, but I came back; that's what matters." I grabbed another tissue and handed it to him. "Now, why did you drop out?"

"There was this girl, Paula…" he started.

I only nodded.

"And, she and I were in the same class, and one day I asked her for coffee."

I nodded again, willing him to go on.

"You know, she and I started getting close, and one day, just… it just happened."

"What just happened?"

He swallowed hard.

"She told me she loved me, and I felt the same way, and the next morning I woke up beside her."

"Okay, so you two slept together, and what? Did you wake up feeling guilty?"

"Me? No, not at all…" he answered me, throwing the tissue into the waste basket. "Paula, on the other hand, after that night, I began to see her true personality."

"And what was she like?"

"Clingy…" he admitted. "Clingy and loud and all in all almost a child."

"Ah…" I nodded. "So, what did you do?"

"I loved her, Viv. Against my better judgement, I loved her."

"The heart wants what it wants," I reasoned. "For reasons we can't explain. But it obviously wasn't unrequited, what happened then? Why are you out here in New York if she's still in Minnesota?"

"That's the thing, she's not."

"What do you mean, she's not?" I took a sip from my tea. "That doesn't make any sense. Did she come out here with you?"

"No…"

"Where is she then?"

There was a lone tear running down his cheek.

"She's dead…"


	25. When I'm Up

**katydid13: Thank you**

**Brown eyed Girl 75: Thank you, and don't worry, they're working on it. Not much mention of the baby in this chapter, mostly Viv, Craig, and Mark here. Thank you so much for the review**

**rejazzz: You can hug Mark if you want. You'll get to see what happened in this chapter. Thanks for the review.**

**Special thanks to BEG75 for her help on this chapter. (big hugs)**

**ooOoo**

_I am the fountain of affection, I'm the instrument of joy, to keep the good times rolling. I'm the boy, I'm the boy. You know the world could be our oyster… if you just put your trust in me, cause we'll keep the good times rolling. Wait and see, wait and see, oh wait and see…_

_When I'm Up- Great Big Sea_

**ooOoo**

"Oh Jesus…" I muttered, hugging him close. "What happened?"

"Not so much what happened. It was what did she do?"

"Okay then, what did she do?" I nodded.

"She overdosed on sleeping pills," there were tear streaks down his cheeks. "Told me she couldn't go on anymore but at the same time didn't want to leave me. Whatever it was that was going on in her head at that point, she wouldn't tell me, but I had her swear she wouldn't do anything rash. 'I'll ask one of the professors if he knows someone who can help,' I told her. Professor MacMillan, brilliant professor in psychology, he had to know someone, get me a contact number at the very least…" He paused, grabbing another tissue and wiping his nose. "I got home that day and three minutes after I got in the door I got a phone call. It was Paula, and her breathing was so shallow I could barely recognize her voice."

I took a sip of my tea. It was getting cold, and I'd steeped it for far too long. Still, I wasn't getting up to pour it down the sink, not when Mark so desperately needed a friend.

"I knew something was wrong right away, so I told her I'd be over there as soon as I could, and hung up. Her apartment was just a block or so away from mine, so I called for an ambulance and ran over to her place. I got there and she was hunched against the table still cradling the phone. Whispering 'Mark, I need you. Where are you? Mark…' She didn't recognize that I'd hung up the phone…" his voice was cracking.

I didn't like the way this story was going. I mean, I know he'd just told me she'd died, but this was almost unbearable to hear.

"So I hung up the phone and laid her against the cabinet. I slapped her face, calling her name, trying to see if I could get any response whatsoever. I wrapped her in a blanket, kept trying, kept trying, still nothing. The ambulance was on its way, but she was going too quickly. She moved so slowly when she reached up to touch my face. She whispered 'Don't try to save me, I love you…' and then…"

I remained silent.

"I watched her die," his voice broke. "Oh God, Viv, I watched her die!" It was then that he dissolved into tears. Wrapping him in my arms, he sobbed against my shoulder. I'll admit I was nearly crying now too. Poor guy, he was so quiet and timid with other people but one of the most aggressive players I'd ever known on the ice. Now to have to deal with a loved one dying… he doesn't deserve it, no one deserves to go through something like that.

"Viv?" Craig whispered, tapping my shoulder as Mark sobbed. "I've put Ryan down for a nap. Want me to do anything?"

I nodded, mouthing 'tea mugs, kitchen sink, dishes'. He complied, disappearing into the kitchen as quickly as he'd come.

Sitting up again, Mark did not let go, but bent his head toward me. Just as he came close, I pressed a finger to his lips.

"Mark, no…" I whispered. "Don't do something you're going to regret…"

"I'm so alone, Viv…" he whispered back. "I don't have anyone. Please, just…"

"I can't," I shook my head. "I love Craig, Mark. And if I kiss you we'll both regret it. You're tired and you're in shock. Kissing me isn't going to make the pain disappear."

"I don't know what to do…"

"Here," I handed him a tissue. "Did you get that contact number from… what's his name?"

"MacMillan? Yeah, I got it…" he breathed.

"Good, that's a good thing," I held out my hand. "Give it here."

He dug into his pocket and produced a piece of paper. Once I had it, I unfolded it and had a look.

"Doctor Francis Tyler? Oh, come on now!" I shook my head.

"What? Something wrong?"

"No, that's brilliant!" I smiled briefly. "Tyler's a good doctor, but really… why didn't you call him as soon as this happened?"

"I didn't think of it till now. Forgot I had it."

"Well, grief can do that to you, I…" I stared at the piece of paper a little longer. "Hold on a minute!"

"What?"

"Call them first thing in the morning."

"Why?"

"It's exactly what you need, Mark," I answered. "Doctor Taylor is one of the best doctors in New York, and I know that based on recommendations for Craig."

"Why would Craig…"

"Never mind that," I brushed it off quickly. "This is probably your only chance, Mark, to put your life back together."

"That's why I came to you," his eyes were pleading with me. _Don't send me to a shrink_, they said. _I want to stay here with you._

"You came to us for help, and that's what we're doing, we're getting you help." I kissed his forehead. "We can't be your saviours, Mark, but Craig and I can support you."

"But… I thought…"

"What did you think? That you'd stay in our spare room and mope about till the depression gets so bad you can't bring yourself to get out of bed?" I wasn't angry, unfortunately my voice betrayed my actual feelings. "Craig and I have Ryan to think about, Mark. Any amount of negative energy, depressive states, he'll pick up on that, and soon he'll start thinking that it's okay for Mummy and Daddy to have suicidal bogeymen staying in the house." I took a deep breath. "That's not to say that you can't stay here, we've got a spare room, because that's no problem, but you really have to watch yourself around the baby."

He nodded, looking down at his feet.

"Come on," I inched closer to him on the couch and put an arm around his shoulder. "You get into the shower and I'll make up the spare bedroom."

He got up and grabbed his duffel bag. I led him up the stairs to the bathroom, and got him a towel out of the linen closet. "Okay, now the thing about the shower… it's got a bit of a temperature problem. We turned it down for when we give Ryan his bath. Still warm enough, but if it runs out, don't worry about it, just finish quickly."

"Alright," he answered, sounding a little bit wary.

I smiled. "Don't worry, you'll be fine…"

I closed the door between us and went back down the stairs. Craig was standing in front of the sink, drying the dishes.

"He alright?"

"He's got a contact number in his pocket, he's gonna call them in the morning," I answered. "Ryan fussing at all?"

"He did a bit, but once he got his dummy and a cuddle with Daddy, he was fine." Craig turned and held me by the forearms. "Not my business what happened to him, but how's this going to work?"

"I thought he could stay in the guest bedroom till he gets back on his feet." I answered.

"We'll have to find another place for Ryan's stuff if we do that," he answered.

"That's what the closet is for," I smiled, "Look, if you're uncomfortable with him staying here, we'll find him a motel room."

"Those things are disgusting. And unless he has a good support system in place, anything could happen," Craig paused. "Does he?"

"I think we're it," I answered.

Craig's face dropped.

"And what do you mean, not your business?" I was a little put off by that. "Did he say anything to you in the car?"

He looked at me blankly.

"When he showed up at the arena, what did he tell you?"

Craig shook his head.

"Just be honest with me. It can't be worse than what he told me."

"His girlfriend killed herself, did he tell you that?"

I nodded.

"Did he tell you he's depressed?"

"That was obvious. That's why he's going to use that contact number."

"Did he tell you he fell so behind on his rent he was evicted three months ago?"

I stopped. "_That _I didn't hear." I shook my head. "But wait a minute, when he told me what happened with Paula, he said he ran from his place to hers just down the street. That doesn't make sense."

"Viv, it happened three months ago."

"He's been carrying this around on his conscience for three months? Why didn't he get help?"

"I don't know," Craig shook his head.

"His parents?"

"Maybe he felt he couldn't trust them. Maybe he didn't know how to tell them, I don't know…"

"No one should have to go through it on their own," I answered. "I mean, after Gary died I had a hard enough time as it was, even with my mom's support. Even now that we have Ryan, even though she doesn't see him all that often I can't imagine not having her around just to call and say hello."

I could feel tears welling. Immediately I felt guilty. Did I have the right to feel guilty?

"Hey," Craig put down the dishcloth and pulled me to him. "Look, at least Mark asked for help and acknowledged that something's wrong. That's the first step."

I took a deep breath and pulled away. "I'm going to go check on Ryan," I told him, heading up the stairs as quick as I could.


End file.
